"I haven't the most remote idea. You see, Don, I know next to nothing about managing a ranch. I stay here in Boston and simply sell wool. This end of the business I know thoroughly, but the other end is Greek to me."
Donald laughed. He was just beginning Greek.
"I am glad you don't know about a ranch, father," he exclaimed.
"Oh, because you seem to know almost everything else, and it is fun to find something you don't know."
There was admiration in the boy's words.
His father shook his head and there was a shadow of sadness in his smile as he replied:
"I know very little, Donald boy. The older I grow the less I know, too. You will feel that way when you are my age. Now here is a chance for us to learn something together. Let's go to Idaho and find out all we can about sheep-raising."
Within the next few days the plans for the journey were completed.
As one article after another was purchased and packed the trip unfolded into a most alluring pilgrimage. They must take their riding togs, for Uncle Harold reminded them that they would probably be in the saddle much of the time; their camping kit must go also; above all they must carry good revolvers and rifles. Donald's heart beat high. He and his father had always ridden a great deal together; it was their favorite sport. Now they were to have whole days of it. And added to this pleasure was the crowning glory of both a rifle and a revolver!