Philip produced a couple of cigars and took a chair opposite him.

"You look bushed, Pearce," he began. "Business must be rushing. I
saw a light in your window after midnight, and I came within an
ace of calling. Thought you wouldn't like to be interrupted, so I
put off my business until this morning."

"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