about
noon
The autumn colour glowed once more , only a little tarnished ; the gold was now copper , the scarlet and vermilion were dulling to crimson . Boone took the road at the earliest light and made for the place where the day before he had parted from Lovelle . When alone he had the habit of talking to himself in an undertone . `` Jim was hunting down the west bank of that there crick , and I heard a shot about noon beyond them big oaks , so I reckon he 'd left the water and gotten on the ridge . '' He picked up the trail and followed it with difficulty , for the rain had flattened out the prints . At one point he halted and considered . `` That 's queer , '' he muttered .