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.