noon
Jack noticed it , but did not know what it meant . A more practiced observer would have known that , hidden from sight , buried in the punk of the dry-rotted timber , was a vicious spark of fire , stealthily eating its way through the punk of the resinous pine . Jack paid little attention to the tiny smoke-wreath , but he was compelled to pay some attention to the weather . It had been hot from sunrise until noon , and the air had grown heavier since . `` I know what that haze means , '' said Jack to himself , as he looked toward the Cocahutchie . `` There 's a thunderstorm coming by and by , and nobody knows just when . I 'll be on the lookout for it . ''