[Illustration: TOM TAKES A BATTERY INTO ACTION] Its fellows fell into line and followed suit. The infantry and cavalry attacked with renewed spirit. Sullenly and savagely, fighting until darkness forbade more fighting, Lee's troops withdrew towards the west, with the Union forces pounding away at them. They left a mass of dead upon the battlefield, lives finely lost for the Lost Cause, and they also left as prisoners six general officers and seven thousand men. More than a third of all the prisoners taken in the battles before the final surrender were taken at the battle of Sailor's Creek. Tom had stuck to his new arm of the service through the three hours of fighting. The guns had been continually advanced as the Southerners retreated. They had been continually under fire. Nearly half the gunners had been killed or wounded. When the fight was over, Tom remembered for the first time his own wounded shoulder. He had never thought of it from the moment when he had sprung upon the artillery horse. Now it began to throb with a renewed and a deeper pain, as if resenting his ignoring of it so long, but the new pain also vanished when he rejoined General Wright and heard him say: "Mr. Strong, you helped to save the day. I shall recommend you for promotion for distinguished bravery under fire." The boy saluted, his heart too full to speak. As he rode away upon Bob, some of the joy in his heart must have got into Bob's heels, for Bob pirouetted up the main street of the little town of Farmville, late that night, as though he were prouder than ever of his master. Farmville was now headquarters. Grant was there, in a bare hotel, not long before a Confederate hospital. It was from the Farmville hotel that he wrote to Lee a historic note. It ran thus: "Headquarters Armies of the U. S. 5 P.M., April 7, 1865. "General R. E. Lee, Commanding C. S. A.: The results of the last week must convince you of the hopelessness of further resistance on the part of the Army of Northern Virginia in this struggle. I feel that it is so, and regard it as my duty to shift from myself the responsibility of any further effusion of blood by asking of you the surrender of that portion of the Confederate States army known as the Army of Northern Virginia. U. S. GRANT, Lieut.-General." Under a flag of truce, this note reached General Lee that evening, so near together were the headquarters of the contending armies in those last days. His letter in reply, asking what terms of surrender were offered, reached Grant the next morning while he was talking on the steps of the Farmville hotel to a Confederate Colonel. "Jes' tho't I'd repo't to you, General," said the Colonel. "Yes?" "You see I own this hyar hotel you're a-occupyin'."