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Updated: June 28, 2025
That night three boys three of the faithful Jacker McKnight, Phil Doon, and Billy Peterson, stole through Wilson's paddock carrying mysterious bundles, and taking as many precautions to avoid observation and pursuit as if they were really, as they pretended to be with the fine imagination of early boyhood, desperate characters bent upon an undertaking of unparalleled lawlessness and great daring.
His strong point, where he concentrates in force, is his collar and stock; from that he radiates into shirt bosom, and fades off into coat and pants. Law! He don't know the difference between a bill in Chancery and the Pope's Bull. Here's another knowledge-cuss. He's from Warren McKnight. His great effort is to keep himself in to hold himself from mischief, and working general ruin.
Klopton in the lower hall, holding out an armful of such traveling impedimenta as she deemed essential, while beside her, Euphemia, the colored housemaid, grinned over a white-wrapped box. "Awfully sorry-no time-back Sunday," I panted over my shoulder. Then the door closed and the car was moving away. McKnight bent forward and stared at the facade of the empty house next door as we passed.
"But listen to this," I contended, as he picked up his hat, "this fellow Sullivan is a fugitive, and he's a lot more likely to make advances to Bronson than to us. We could have the case continued, release Bronson on bail and set a watch on him." "Not my watch," McKnight protested. "It's a family heirloom." "You'd better go home," I said firmly. "Go home and go to bed. You're sleepy.
Immediately after the publication of the proclamation of Wednesday, September 10th, the work of forming militia companies in Reading was begun in earnest, the efforts that had been previously made in that direction not having been attended with much practical result. In the evening, the court-house bell was rung, and the building was rapidly filled. Mayor McKnight presided over the meeting.
"Upon my word, Rich, I hadn't an idea beyond getting away from that place. If you had seen what I saw " McKnight stopped me. "Seen it! Why, you lunatic, I've been digging for you all day in the ruins! I've lunched and dined on horrors. Give me something to rinse them down, Lollie."
In fact, he held in his hand the very note-book which contained them. His manner was restrained, but it was evident he was highly excited. I introduced him to McKnight, who has the imagination I lack, and who placed him at once, mentally. "I only learned yesterday that you had been er saved," he said rapidly. "Terrible accident unspeakable. Dream about it all night and think about it all day.
Had they not in their possession a sealskin bag containing a wallet and a bit of gold chain, which, by putting the crime on me, would leave a gap big enough for Sullivan himself to crawl through? "Why don't you say your little speech before Johnson brings the other man, Lawrence?" McKnight inquired. "They won't believe you, but it will help them to understand what is coming."
Though in an open letter to Joseph Jones, of Pasquotank, McKnight indignantly denied the charges against his loyalty to America, the Halifax Convention of 1770 ordered his estate to be confiscated and rented out for benefit of the State, by Isaac Gregory, William Ferebee, and Abram Harrison. An amusing story is told of how McKnight acquired one of his plantations in Currituck.
Me an' Gardiner'll go back an' have a try after Butts. Ted McKnight represented Gardiner in this enterprise. The hunt for Butts had to be conducted with great circumspection.
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