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.
"Undoubtedly that would take more men than we have ashore," Trent replied.

"There would be no sense in occupying the whole city until we have driven out every hostile Mexican ahead of us.

We might drive the Mexican soldiers much further, but the trouble is that hundreds of them have joined in the sport of sniping at the hated _Americanos_.