It foundered him.
It killed him.

When Pan came out of his stupefaction to realize his actual loss he was
heartbroken. He could not be consoled. Hours he spent crying over his
saddle. Not for a long time did he go to see little Lucy. His father
could not afford to buy him another horse then and indeed it was a long
time before he did get one.

Days and weeks passed, and fall came, then winter with more school,
tedious and wearing, and again spring and summer. Cowboys were
plentiful now in the growing range, but Pan avoided them, ashamed and
sick because he could not approach them without Curly. He never got
over grieving for his pony, though he reached a stage where any horse
would have freed him from his melancholy. He played alone, or with
Lucy. She was the one bright spot in all that gray prairie. Lucy was
growing fast now; her golden curly head seemed to spring up at him.

That autumn the homesteaders erected a schoolhouse of their own. It
was scarcely three miles from Pan's home.

"Pan, can you walk it?" asked Bill Smith with his keen eye on the lad.
"Yes Daddy--but--but," replied Pan, unable to finish with the thought
so dear to his heart.

"Ah--huh. An' before long Lucy will be old enough to go too," added
his father. "Reckon you'll take her?"

"Yes, Daddy." And for Pan there was real gladness in that promise.

"Wal, you're a good boy," declared the father. "An' you won't have to
walk to school. I've traded for two horses for you."

"_Two_!" screamed Pan, wild with joy. "Oh! Oh! Oh!"

In due time the new horses arrived at the Smith homestead. Their names
were Pelter and Pilldarlick. Pelter was a pinto, snappy and pretty,
though he had a wicked eye. Pilldarlick was not showy, but he was
small and strong, easy gaited and gentle. Pan thought he was going to
like Pelter best, although Pilldarlick was surely a cowboy name and
therefore all satisfying. It turned out, however, that Pan could not
ride Pelter. He was locoed. He bucked Pan off every time.
Pilldarlick was really much better than he looked, and soon filled the
void in Pan's heart.

The first time he rode Pilldarlick to the new school marked another
red-letter day in the life of Panhandle Smith, cowboy. There were many
boys and a few girls who had come to attend the school, only a few of
whom had horses to ride. Pan was the proud cynosure of all eyes as he
rode Pilldarlick round the yard for the edification of his scho