could reach
the roof. It ought not to be difficult for the defenders to pick
off a Navy man at a time as the Americans sprang up.

At last the covering gave way.

"Pile up, all hands, as rapidly as you can come!" yelled Lieutenant
Trent. "Officers first!"

"Officers first!" echoed Dave and Dan in a breath, all the military
longing in their hearts leaping to the surface.

Then up they went, into the jaws of massacre!

CHAPTER XVII

MEXICANS BECOME SUDDENLY MEEK

Trent leaped to the roof. With his left arm he warded off a blow
aimed at his head with the butt of a rifle.

Then his sword flashed, its point going clean through the body
of the Mexican soldier who barred his way.

"Death to the Gringos! Death to the Gringos!" yelled the Mexicans.

But Trent drove back two men with his flashing sword. After him
Dave heaped to the roof, his revolver barking fast and true.

Danny Grin followed, and he darted around to the other side of
the skylight, turning loose his revolver.

The fire was returned briskly by the enemy, all of whom wore the
uniform of the Mexican regular infantry.

In the footsteps of the officers came, swiftly, four stalwart young
sailormen, and now the American force had a footing on the roof.

At first none of the Mexicans thought of asking for quarter.
One of the infantrymen, retreating before Dalzell's deftly handled
sword, and fighting back with his rifle butt, retreated so close
to the edge of the roof that, in another instant, he had fallen
to the street below, breaking his neck.

Ere the last dozen Americans had succeeded in reaching the roof
the fight was over, for the few Mexicans still able to fight suddenly
threw down their rifles, shouting pleadingly:

"_Piedad!_ _piedad!_" (pity).

"Accept all surrenders!" shouted Lieutenant Trent at the top of
his voice.

Four quivering, frightened Mexicans accepted this mercy, standing
huddled together, their eyes eloquent with fear.

The fight had been a short, but savage one. A glance at the roof's
late defenders showed, including the man lying in the street below,
eight dead Mexicans, one of whom was the boyish lieutenant of
infantry who had commanded this detachment. Nine more were badly
wounded. The four prisoners were the only able-bodied Mexicans
left on the roof.

"Pardon, but shall we have time for our prayers?" asked one of
the surrendered Mexicans, approaching Lieutenant Trent.

"Time for your prayers?" Tr