Amalgamators and batterymen were going and coming through all the pounding racket of this part of the establishment, but the prospector had somehow managed to lose himself.
So suddenly and completely had Porter disappeared that it seemed little short of magical.

Frank took three or four steps from the foot of the stairs, peering along the row of plates covered with dirty water from the battery boxes, and looking back into the shadowy recesses under the ore loft.
He was asking himself if Porter would have had time to get away into the darkness back of the batteries, when a red-shirted amalgamator stepped to his side.
"Lookin' fer Porter ?" he yelled.
Frank nodded.
"He ducked out o' the door yonder," and the amalgamator, with a jerk of his thumb, indicated an opening that led out into the night.
Ballard was nearest the door.

He had heard the amalgamator, and whirled like lightning and dashed out of the mill and into the darkness.
Frank was tight at his heels, while Clancy brought up the rear of the little file of pursuers.

The noise was not so deafening outside the mill, but the boys were blinded temporarily by their quick transition from the bright glow of the mill to the outer gloom.

They stared around them, but could see nothing of the prospector.
Ballard, however, heard something or other which gave him a clew.