An answering call came clearly from somewhere near at hand.  Beth felt a sudden alarm to know there were human beings near.  What sort they were was a matter entirely of conjecture.  Then presently she discovered a number of small, rude buildings, and a fair-sized cabin, planted next the hill.  The door of the latter was open.  A tall man appeared in the frame.

“This,” said Van, who had waited for the girl to ride once more to his side, “is the Monte Cristo mine—­the worst false alarm that ever disfigured the map.”

CHAPTER V

VAN’S PARTNERS

The Monte Cristo mining property comprised a tunnel in the hill, a glory hole, a little toy quartz-mill—­five stamps strong—­the bunk-house, kitchen, blacksmith-shop, stable, corral, and four human beings.  These latter were a Chinese cook named Algy, a Piute Indian half-breed called Cayuse, and two rare souls—­Napoleon G. Blink and “Gettysburg”—­miners, and boastful old worthies, long partnered and beloved by Van.

Just at present the tunnel was empty, the glory-hole was deserted, and the quartz-mill was silent.  The mine had proved a failure.  Van had expended many thousands of dollars and ten months of time to demonstrate the facts; and now, in possession of much new experience, an indomitable spirit, two tired partners, and a brand-new claim, he was facing his fate, as heretofore, with a wonderful boyish cheer.

Not all this knowledge was vouchsafed to Beth when she and her maid were presently put in possession of the place.  With the utmost gravity Van introduced her by old Dave’s appellation, Miss Laughing Water.  The maid he merely called Elsa.  His explanation as to whence they hailed, whither they were bound, why he had taken them in charge, and how he had lost the pinto pony, was notable chiefly for its brevity.  He and his charges were hungry and somewhat pressed for time, he announced, and he therefore urged Algy to haste.

Dinner had been promptly served at twelve.  Algy was therefore in despair—­for Algy was proud of his art.  He still had good red beans, most excellent coffee, corn-fed bacon, the best of bread and butter, a hunger-inspiring stew of lamb, white potatoes, fine apple sauce, and superlative gingerbread on hand in great abundance, however, but in spite of it all he spluttered.

“What’s mallah you, Van?” he demanded several times.  “Wha’ for no tell me blingee ladies?  How you s’plose I gettee dinner?  Sominagot, you come like this, that velly superstich.”

He would readily have laid down his very life for Van, but he laid a good dinner instead.  During its preparation Beth and her maid sat down on a bench beside the bunk-house, in the presence of Cayuse, Napoleon, and Gettysburg, while Van led the horses to the stable for refreshment, and Algy talked to himself in pigeon English.