For half an hour after that Trent surveyed every roof-top with his field glass. As no more shots crossed the roof on which the detachment was posted, Lieutenant Trent then concluded that his commission had been executed, and gave the order to return.
The Mexican dead and wounded were left in the building, a notice being posted on the door in order that the sanitary corps men might know where to find them. The four uninjured prisoners were now placed in the center of the detachment, and Trent marched his command back to the post-office. There the prisoners were turned over to the custody of the provost officer.
"Step inside, men, and you'll find something to eat," was the welcome news Trent gave his detachment of men.
Darrin and Dalzell were sent to a restaurant near by, where the officers were eating a welcome meal.
"Hadn't you better go first, sir?" Darrin asked.
"Simply because I am the ranking officer with this detachment?" smiled the lieutenant. "You two are younger, and therefore are probably hungrier than I am."
Dave was the first to finish his meal in the restaurant, and hurried to relieve Lieutenant Trent of the command of the detachment. Altogether there were now some two hundred men at the post-office station; these were being held in readiness to reinforce the American fighters in any part of the city where they might be needed.
Until after dark the "Long Island's" detachment remained there, enviously watching other detachments that marched briskly away.
As soon as dark had come down, the popping of rifles was almost continuous.
"I wish we had orders to clear the whole town of snipers," muttered
Danny Grin impatiently.