"Merciful powers!" yelled a voice in wild alarm. "Get him out, quick! That's the solution tank and is filled with cyanide!"
Merriwell's heart almost stopped beating. In a gleam of light from the mill he saw the white, drawn face of Pardo peering toward the spot where Ballard was splashing in the deadly cyanide solution. An instant later he bounded to the rescue.
CHAPTER IV.
A CLOSE CALL.
Just one thing saved Ballard from going over his head into the cyanide solution, and that was this: Porter had not twisted the plank off the rim of the tank, but had manipulated it in such a way as to cause Ballard to lose his footing and drop into the poisonous liquid beneath. As Ballard dropped, he flung out his arms, seized the plank, and so kept head and shoulders out of the cyanide. Had he gone under or swallowed even a few drops of the deadly stuff, that pursuit of the savage prospector would have had a tragic termination. Ballard, kicking around in the solution, was trying to drag himself up on the plank as Merry crept toward him.
"Steady there, Pink!" called Frank. "Don't splash the stuff around, and keep out of it as much as you can. It's a deadly poison."
"Never mind me," cried, Ballard. "Keep after that confounded prospector He'll get away if you don't."
"You first, old chap," Frank answered. "It has a scurvy trick Porter played on you, and—and it might have resulted fatally. Now, then!"
Gripping his chum by the arms, Frank heaved him upward until he was on his knees on the plank.
"Want any help?" came the agitated voice of Clancy, from just below the solution tank.