She had no need of words.
"Miss Withersteen, I have to report--loss of the--white herd," said Judkins, hoarsely.
"Come, sit down, you look played out," replied Jane, solicitously.

She brought him brandy and food, and while he partook of refreshments, of which he appeared badly in need, she asked no questions.
"No one rider--could hev done more--Miss Withersteen," he went on, presently.
"Judkins, don't be distressed.

You've done more than any other rider.
I've long expected to lose the white herd.

It's no surprise.

It's in line with other things that are happening.