"Ensign Dalzell, you will take ten men and endeavor to find the American women."

Then Trent, with the remainder of the command, rushed on after the advance guard. Up the stairs dashed Dave in the lead. The skylight proved not to be fastened.

Only a minute before had the machine gun stopped its murderous hail. Now some thirty Mexican soldiers crept to the edge of the roof to try their luck again with the sailormen up the street.

"There is only a handful of them," shouted one Mexican. "The gringos must be under the hotel, or in it!"

At that announcement there was a swift rush toward the skylight.

Just before they reached it Darrin sprang into sight, followed by his men. Short, sharp conflict followed. Twelve Mexicans, three of them killed, went down, and two American sailormen had been wounded when the enemy sent up their appeal for "_piedad_,"

or quarter.

Saluting, a sailorman reported to Lieutenant Trent that Ensign Dalzell had found the American women in the annex of the hotel.

None had been injured, but all were much frightened.

Leaving a petty officer in charge on the roof, Trent turned to Dave to say:

"Come along, Darrin. We'll see what can be done for our countrywomen."

Hastily descending, and following the messenger, the two officers were met at the door of a s.p.a.cious room by Ensign Dalzell.

"Ladies," said Dan, turning, "here are Lieutenant Trent and Ensign Darrin. The former commands this detachment."

On the floor lay more than a dozen wounded Mexicans.

Two of the American women, having had nursing experience, had taken good care of the injured.

"Ladies," asked Lieutenant Trent, "have you been roughly treated by the Mexicans?"

"Far from it," said one of the women. "The Mexican officer in command treated us with great consideration. We were in the main part of the hotel, the wooden building. The Mexican officer told us that his men were going to occupy the roof as a military necessity, and that there would be fighting. He a.s.sured us that we would be safer in the annex, and escorted us here."

"Where is that officer now?" asked Trent, promptly. "I would like to shake hands with him."

"I am afraid you would have to travel inside the Mexican lines,"

said another woman. "A little while ago a party of hors.e.m.e.n rode up to the rear of the hotel, and one officer, a lieutenant-colonel, came up into the hotel and sought the officer in command here, ordering him to withdraw with his men, leaving only a few behind to keep up a show of resistance."

"I will see that you are taken at once inside the American lines,"

declared Trout. "There you will be safe."

Preparations were quickly made. The Mexican prisoners who were able to walk were formed under guard. The American women walked on ahead of the prisoners. Ensign Darrin, with half of the command, took charge of the rescued women and prisoners, and went to the lower part of the town, to turn over the refugees and prisoners.

Trent posted a squad of his men, under Boatswain's Mate Pearson, on the roof. The rest of the seamen were stationed in the street, and Dave was placed in immediate command, with instructions to keep a sharp lookout on all sides. The boatswain's mate was to report to him anything observed from the roof.

In half an hour Danny Grin's detachment returned, coming almost on the double-quick. Dalzell, wide-eyed with news, drew his brother officers aside.

"Cantor has escaped!" Dan murmured, excitedly. "It was not widely known on the '_Long Island_' that he was in arrest. So it seems that he went down over the side, stepped into a gig, and ordered the c.o.xswain to take him ash.o.r.e. As he was in civilian dress he was not likely to be closely observed by sentries on sh.o.r.e, and so far no trace of him has been discovered."

"I believe he has left the Navy," Dave nodded. "Further, as he appeared to have strange interests ash.o.r.e, I believe that he has deserted to the enemy."

"Don't say that," begged Trent earnestly. "Bad as he may have been, Cantor was trained in all the traditions of the Navy. I can believe him wild, or even bad, but I can't believe him big enough scoundrel to desert to the enemy."

"It's a fearful thing to believe," Darrin admitted, "but what are we to believe? We found him in the house of that notorious bandit, Cosetta. Do you feel any doubt, sir, that Cosetta has proposed, or will propose to the Huerta government that he bring his men in under the Mexican flag in return for a pardon? There is another side to it, sir. The landing plans were stolen from Captain Gales's desk. Doesn't it now seem likely that Cantor stole the plans, and turned them over to Cosetta, who would be delighted at the chance of being able to turn them over to the commander of the Mexican forces around Vera Cruz?"

"The suspicion seems plausible enough," Trent admitted, sadly, "yet it is a terrible thing to believe."

"What's that?" cried Dan, jumping suddenly as shots rang out in another street close at hand.

First had come three or four shots, almost immediately a crashing fire had followed.

"Ensign Darrin," ordered Trent, promptly, "take thirty men and locate that firing. If you run into anything that you cannot handle, rush word back to me."

Like a shot, Dave Darrin was off, running at the head of thirty sailormen. Around two corners they dashed, then came in sight of a scene that made their blood boil.

Some forty men stood in the street, firing at a house from whose windows flashes of pistol shots came. Plainly the defenders were pitifully weak. Up to this moment the men in the street had not observed Ensign Dave's party.

"Sprint down close enough, Riley," Dave directed, "to see whether the men in the street are Mexicans or our own men. I suspect they're Mexicans."

"They're Mexicans, sir!" panted Riley, returning at a sprint.

"Ready! Aim! Fire!" shouted Darrin. "Charge. Fire as you need."

As the volley rang out several Mexicans dropped. Dave dashed down the street at the head of his men.

A feeble return of the fire came from the Mexicans, who then broke and fled to the next corner.

"Are there Americans inside the house?" called Dave, halting before the open but darkened windows.

"Indeed there are!" came a jubilant voice. "Are you Americans?"

"From the '_Long Island_,'" Dave answered. "Come out and join us, and we'll take you to safety."

"Now, heaven be praised for this!" answered the same man's voice, devoutly. "Come, my dear ones. We are under the protection of our own Navy men."

Out into the street came a man and woman past middle age. Behind them followed a man of perhaps twenty-five, and a woman who was still younger.

"I am Ensign Darrin, at your service," Darrin announced, raising his cap.

"We were never so glad before to see a naval officer, Mr. Darrin,"

responded the older man, heartily. "Tom and I had only our revolvers with which to defend ourselves. Permit me. I am Jason Denman.

This is my wife, this our daughter, and this our son."

Dave stepped closer to acknowledge the introduction. When, in the darkness, his gaze rested on the young woman, Ensign Darrin gave a gasp of surprise.

"You are wondering if we have met before," smiled the young woman, sadly. "Yes, Mr. Darrin, we have. You thrashed that bully, Mr.

Cantor, one night in New York."

"I did not know, then, that he was a brother officer," murmured Dave, "but I would have struck him even if I had known."

"He was here to-night, with the Mexicans whom you drove away,"

continued the young woman.