dead Mexican, not
in uniform, who had been killed by the sailormen's fire, and a
trail of blood that must have been shed by the wounded enemy as
they were carried away.

"Bandits---Cosetta's men---not soldiers, this time," was Dan's
instant guess.

The miscreants and their wounded, as the blood trail showed, had
escaped by way of the rear of the house. None were in sight by
the time the Americans reached the back yard.

"Shall we pursue, sir?" asked the boatswain's mate, saluting.

"In what direction?" asked Dalzell, scanning the ground. "The
rascals can run faster than we can follow a trail of blood. But
you may go back to Lieutenant Trent, report just what we have
found, and bring me his orders."

"Lieutenant Trent believes that you are not likely to catch up
with the fugitives, and there would be danger of running a handful
of men into a cunning Mexican ambush," the petty officer reported,
two minutes later.

After that the night dragged slowly. Trent allowed some of his
men to sleep in doorways an hour or so at a time, but there were
enough sailormen awake to handle any sudden surprise or attack.

At four in the morning Trent's command was relieved by a company
of marines with two machine guns.

Lieutenant Trent, under orders, marched his command back to a park
in which tents had been pitched. Here, under blankets on the
ground, the tired sailormen and their three officers were allowed
to sleep until noon.

By daylight of that day, Wednesday, the first detachment ashore
had been strongly reinforced.

There was still much sniping in the city, though now the firing came
mostly from the rear of the town. Slowly, patiently, the Navy
detachments pushed their way forward, attending to snipers and also
searching houses for concealed arms and ammunition.

In the course of this search hundreds of Mexicans were arrested.
Even some very small boys were found with knives.

On the third day the residents of the city were warned that all
who possessed arms must take their weapons to the provost officer's
headquarters. About nineteen hundred men, women and boys turned
in their weapons, running all the way from the latest models of
rifles down to century-old muskets.

Soon after orders were issued that all natives found armed were
to be executed on the spot. To the average American this might
have seemed like a cruel order, but now the list of dead sailormen
and marines had reached twenty-five, and there