“I knew Jake Simmons’s folks. They are kind of kin of mine, and Lotty Meekins told me that Sadie Simmons told her that Jake Simmons was getting ready to up and go to Texas, and so one day when Joe, the tinman came along, I knew he’d be traveling that way, so I got leave to go along with him in his cart and see the Simmonses. They said I had heard right, and that they was going down on a broadhorn to Texas. I asked ’em where and when, and they told me, so I said I wanted to go along, and Jake he said: ‘Louisa, I’ve heerd my father talk about your father, and so long as we are blood kin I’ll see what I kin do. I know you was never took up by none of the family when you was left an orphan and I always thought they did kind of mean to bind you out, but ma said you had a good home and honest work wasn’t going to hurt nobody, and we might as well let well enough alone and leave you stay with Mis’ Brown till your time was up. But now if you want to go to Texas with me and the gals, go you shall.’ Well, he was as kind as could be, though he ain’t more’n second cousin to my father, and I told him my time was up and over, and I was just staying along till I could see my way clear to get where I wanted to go, that I’d made up my mind to say to Miss Christine, ‘whither thou goest I will go,’ and so then we hashed it all up that I was to go over there and leave with his folks. I didn’t say too much about it, for I was afraid Mis’ Brown would come talking around and make them think I’d ought to stay. Well, we got off all right and made good time, so here I am and here I stay. You won’t turn me off, will you, Mr. John?” She turned pleadingly to the young man. “Not I,” was the response. “If you choose to follow our fortunes you shall do it, so get your traps, whatever they are, and come along.” This, Louisa lost no time in doing. Her worldly belongings were packed in two stout bundles standing outside, and with the rest of the goods and chattels they were stowed away in the wagon which was to take them all to their destination. Many were the westward moving wagons following the roads, some having come all the way from the eastern states, others from no further than the coast, where their owners had landed, and, like the Ross family, were conveying their goods over the last stage of their journey. At the small towns which were come upon at infrequent intervals, the wagoners would stop to help themselves to dipperfuls of tar from the barrels hospitably set out for the newcomers, and many an agonizing creak was thus brought to an end, to the relief of those who for hours had endured the noise of a squeaking wagon.