"Insomnia," said Pearce, huskily. "I can't sleep. Suppose you saw me at
work through the window?" There was almost an eager haste in his
question.

"Saw nothing but the light," replied Philip, carelessly. "You know this
country pretty well, don't you, Pearce?"

"Been 'squatting' on prospects for eight years, waiting for this damned
railroad," said Pearce, interlacing his thick fingers. "I guess I know
it!"

"Then you can undoubtedly tell me the location of Fort o' God?"

"Fort o' What?"

"Fort o' God."

Pearce looked blank.

"It's a new one on me," he said, finally. "Never heard of it." He rose
from his chair and went over to a big map hanging against the wall.
Studiously he went over it with the point of his stubby forefinger.
"This is the latest from the government," he continued, with his back
to Philip, "but it ain't here. There's a God's Lake down south of
Nelson House, but that's the only thing with a God about it north of
fifty-three."

"It's not so far south as that," said Philip, rising.

Pearce's little eyes were fixed on him shrewdly.

"Never heard of it," he repeated. "What sort of a place is it, a post--"

"I have no idea," replied Philip. "I came for information more out of
curiosity than anything else. Perhaps I misunderstood the name. I'm
much obliged."

He left Pearce in his chair and went directly to the factor's quarters.
Bludsoe, chief factor of the Hudson's Bay Company in the far north,
could give him no more information than had Pearce. He had never heard
of Fort o' God. He could not remember the name of Couchee. During the
next two hours Philip talked with French, Indian, and half-breed
trappers, and questioned the mail runner, who had come in that morning
from the south. No one could tell him of Fort o' God.

Had Pierre lied to him? His face flushed with anger as this thought
came to him. In the next breath he assured himself that Pierre was not
a man who would lie. He had measured him as a man who would fight, and
not one who would lie. Besides, he had voluntarily given the
information that he and Jeanne were from Fort o' God. There had been no
excuse for falsehood.

He purposely directed his movements so that he would not come into
contact with Gregson, little dreaming that his artist friend was
working under the same formula. He lunched with the factor, and a
little later went boldly back to the cliff where he had met Jeanne and
Pierre the preceding night. Although he had