fired at the high house from the center station. He broke the bird.
“I’m out of shells,” the President announced. “I had that bad pull on the low house three, and had to shoot at it twice. But that’s twenty-four, and you can’t win anyway, General, can you?”
“I have an extra shell, Mr. President,” the chief said, and offered it to Johnson, who dropped it into his shotgun, called for the low house bird, and broke it.
“That’s straight, right?”
“Yes, Mr. President,” the Secret Service agent keeping score agreed.
“Your shot, General,” the President said.
The chief, who was firing a Remington Model 1100 semiautomatic, broke the high house and “dropped” the low.
“The President is straight, and the general is twenty-two,” the Secret Service scorekeeper said.
The President held out his hand, and the chief of staff counted out three one-dollar bills into it.
“No good deed goes unpunished, General,” the President said. “If you hadn’t given me that shell, it would have cost you only two dollars.”
The President walked toward Felter, with the chief of staff following. A Secret Service agent came forward and took the President’s, and then the chief’s, shotguns.
“You know each other, right?” the President said.
“Actually, sir, no,” the chief said. “I know who Colonel Felter is, of course, and we have mutual friends, but—”
“How do you do, sir?” Felter said.
“I’m really glad to finally meet you, Colonel,” the chief said, putting out his hand.
“He’s really a legend in his own time, right?” the President said, chuckling. “Everybody knows who he is, but hardly anybody actually knows him.”
“I suppose that’s true, Mr. President,” the chief said.
“You ever shoot any skeet, Felter?” the President asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“You a gambling man, Felter?”
“Every once in a while, sir.”
“You want to shoot a round of Humiliation for a buck a bird, winner take all?”
“I don’t know what Humiliation is, Mr. President,” Felter said.
“All doubles,” the President explained. “You don’t get off the station until you break both birds. A buck in the kitty for each missed bird. If you get left behind when everybody moves to the next station, you’re humiliated. Get the picture? Okay with you?”
“Yes, sir,” Felter said.
“You better take the briefcase off,” the President said. “What have you got in there, anyhow?”
“I had my assistant bring my accumulated overnights to meet my plane in New York, Mr. President. I hoped to have time to read them on the plane to Washington.”
The President beckoned to a Secret Service agent with his finger, and when he quickly walked over to him said, “Sit on Colonel Felter’s briefcase while we’re shooting.”
“Yes, sir,” the Secret Service agent said, and waited for Felter to unlock the padlock.
“And he’ll need a shotgun. An 1100 all right with you, Felter?”
“Is there another Model 12, Mr. President?”
“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, right?” the President said. “Get him a Model 12.”
“Yes, sir.”
Felter, now in his shirtsleeves, suspenders showing, with a shell pouch hanging low on his leg, stood at Station One.
“When was the last time you shot skeet, Felter?” the President asked.
“I don’t remember, sir. Some time ago.”
“You want a couple of don’t-count shots to bring you up to speed?”
“Yes, sir. I think that would be a good idea.”
“Two, four, how many?”
“I’d like four, if I can have them, sir. I’d like two singles and then a double.”
“Have at it.”
Felter broke the first—high house—single, and dropped the low house single. Then he called for doubles, which caused clay pigeons to be thrown simultaneously from the high and low houses. He broke both of them.
“Ready now?” the President asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Have at it,” the President ordered.
Felter loaded a round in the magazine and pumped it into the chamber and then loaded a second round in the magazine.
“Pull,” he called.
Both birds disintegrated.
The President took his turn and broke both birds.
The chief of staff took his turn; he broke the high house and missed the low.
“He has to stay there while we move on to Station Two,” the President said. “That’s why it’s called Humiliation.”
“Yes, sir,” Felter said.
Felter and the President both fired two shots from Station Two, and both broke both birds. The chief fired again from Station One, and this time broke both birds.
Felter broke both of his birds on Station Three; the President dropped the low house. The chief dropped the high house when he fired from Station Two.
When the round was over, Felter had gone straight, which left him standing alone at Station