The next house is a two-story stone building with portico in front, known in recent years as the "Old McCollough Stand." It was built and first kept as a tavern by a man named Bryant. James Sampey, Isaac Nixon, Morris Mauler and Nicholas McCartney, each kept this house for shorter or longer terms before McCollough went into it. Col. John W. McCollough, who became the owner of the property, kept tavern here for many years, and died the proprietor. He was a man of stalwart size, a talking man and a politician. He was likewise a contractor, and did much work on the road. He left a widow and several children. [J]Jim and Nick, two of his sons, are well known pike boys. His [K]widow married 'Squire Burke, who now occupies the house, and there is no place on the road where a better meal can be obtained. A tragedy was enacted at this house which forms a memorable event in the history of the old pike, and served as a good text for the old anti-slavery agitators. It was on the 4th of July, 1845. Early in the morning of that day, while a number of wagoners were engaged in feeding and cleaning their teams, as they stood in the wagon yard, a negro passed along the road, and William King, one of the wagoners aforesaid, cried out in a loud voice to Nicholas McCartney, who was then keeping the house, "There goes a runaway nigger." "Are you sure of that?" inquired McCartney. "I am," replied King, whereupon McCartney darted after the negro and captured him a short distance south of the house, the rocks and brush in that locality having impeded the progress of the fugitive. McCartney led him into the house, and informed him that he was going to take him back to his master in Maryland. The negro seemed submissive, and McCartney placed him in charge of one Atwell Holland, his brother-in-law, while he went for a horse to carry out his purpose of taking him back to Maryland. During McCartney's absence the negro ran out of the house, and Atwell and others pursued him. Atwell being more fleet than any of the other pursuers, soon overtook the negro, whereupon he wheeled upon Holland, drew a dirk knife from his pocket, struck it into his pursuer's heart, and made good his escape. Holland immediately fell to the ground, and expired while being borne to the house by his companions. Among the persons present on this tragic occasion, was one Lewis Mitchell, who was a great hunter and an occasional preacher. While Holland was lying on the ground dying, Mitchell placed wild grape leaves on his wound, and prayed for him. Mitchell was preaching once in this neighborhood, and in one of his most earnest passages, heard the yelping of hounds. He immediately ceased preaching, and exclaimed, "There are the hounds, and d--d if Lead ain't ahead," and straightway dashed out of the meeting house to join the sportsmen. [Footnote J: Both now dead.] [Footnote K: Now dead.]