"Stabbed again!" declared Bertie, who knew that Charley was in the habit of borrowing.
Amy's purse being well fed, was always fat, and Charley's was ever lean and hungry. Amy was obliging, and Charley not backward in asking favors, so the lean and hungry purse often brought its pressing needs to the notice of its rich relation.
"Amy is a trump!" said Charley, penitently, "and I take it all back. I am as good a friend to Jack as she is, but I can't exactly swallow the rooster. He sticks in my throat yet."
"That will wear away in time," said Bertie.
"If the rooster troubles you, what do you think of Jack? He has a bigger lump in his throat than you have, and one that will not go down in a hurry, I'll warrant."
"And I pity him," added Amy. "He stole the poor rooster and murdered him in cold blood, but he is sorry for it, and would bring him to life again if he could. But he cannot do that. He must be haunted forever by its ghost instead."
"Ghost of a rooster!" murmured Charley, in an undertone. But Amy heard it.
"Ghost of an evil action," she said, looking at Charley, severely. "He would be rather a respectable boy, if he was not a Midnight. You cannot expect much of a born Midnight."
"No," said Charley.
It was agreed that to be a born Midnight was a serious misfortune, which might happen to anybody. It did happen to poor Jack, and so they pitied him.