Travis by Georgina Gentry Page A

don’t have anything and all I got is two horses.”
    “That extra one, that Appaloosa, is fine and has the fanciest saddle I ever saw,” Violet pointed out.
    “Are you loco? That’s my spare horse,” Travis snapped. “If Mouse gives out, I’m looking for this one to pick up the slack and get me there.”
    Violet sighed loudly and lowered her head. “Well, come on, kids. I reckon we got no other choice but to move on. Maybe we can find some acorns or scraps other campers left.”
    “We just had breakfast,” Travis reminded her.
    She didn’t answer, merely motioned all the tearful children to join her and started walking slowly out of the camp, Growler following along next to Boo Hoo.
    “Growler, come back here!” Travis called. The dog stopped, looked back at him and continued walking after the bedraggled little group.
    Damn, they had taken his whiskey, eaten up his food and caused him to lie to another lawman, and now they were stealing his dog. “Wait a minute!” he yelled. “Maybe I can figure out something.”
    Violet turned and gave him a sad smile. “We don’t want to be any trouble, mister.”
    “Trouble? Damn it, you’ve been nothing but trouble since I laid eyes on you.”
    “I wish you wouldn’t swear in front of the children,” Violet admonished him.
    “Have you always been such a nag?” Travis snapped. “I swear, you’re worse than some housewife.”
    “I’m just trying to look after the children,” Violet answered meekly.
    Travis’s head was splitting and his wrist hurt. “If I find a way to take you to Guthrie, do you promise that’ll be the end of my obligation?”
    “We promise!” shouted all the children.
    “Oh, kind sir,” said Violet, “if you can just get us to the capital, we’ll find jobs and you’ll be done with us.”
    “I don’t see how that little one can hold a job,” Travis said and watched Boo Hoo hang on to his dog’s neck.
    “I’ll take her with me,” Violet said.
    “Now how is a schoolgirl going to look after a toddler?” Travis asked.
    “I’ll just do the best I can,” Violet answered, wiping her eyes.
    None of them looked old enough or strong enough to hold jobs, Travis thought, but maybe they had a better chance in Guthrie than they did here.
    I’m about to do something I’m going to regret , he thought. “You kids sit down under these trees,” Travis ordered, “and I’ll go see if I can make a trade for a wagon and team.”
    Violet watched him reach for the fancy saddle.
    “Hey, kid,” he said to Limpy, “bring that Appaloosa over here.”
    Limpy grinned and used his crutch to hobble over and untie the spotted-rumped horse. “I always wanted to be a cowboy and saddle a horse.”
    “You did, did you? Well, here, I’ll show you how.” Travis took the horse by the rope. “Now first you grab the horse by the forelock and the bridle in your other hand.” He winced suddenly and Violet realized he had forgotten about his damaged wrist.
    “Limpy, help him,” she said as the Ranger bent over, cursing in pain.
    “I can do it myself,” the half-breed muttered, but the thin, crippled boy took the bridle from the man’s hand and put it on the horse. “That’s right.” He nodded with approval. “Now throw the blanket up on his back, close to the withers.”
    Limpy looked blank.
    “His shoulders,” Travis sighed, “up almost to his neck.”
    Limpy hesitated, then put the saddle blanket on.
    “Great.” Travis nodded. “Now the saddle.”
    However when Limpy tried to lift the saddle, his crutch went out from under his arm and he stumbled and fell. He scrambled to his feet, his face blushing red. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I tried; I really tried.”
    “Yeah, you did, kid,” Travis said. “I like a kid who’s game.”
    Harold stepped up and helped Travis lift the saddle onto the Appaloosa’s back.
    “Now we pull the belly strap tight,” Travis said and did so with his left hand. Then he swung up on the