That evening at supper, as they sat enjoying sundown and the quiet of woods and mountains, they heard a motor far away. The wind took it away and then it sounded much nearer, grinding in low gear. George stood up as a jeep came round the mountain. In it sat a man and a woman. The jeep came into the clearing, swaying over stones and roots. "Charlie!" "Hi," Charlie said. He helped Beth down. George yanked Timmy to his feet. "Stand up, son. This is the President of the United States." "I got a present for you, George," Charlie said. "Not another pressure cooker!" Rosy said. "A peace pipe," Charlie said. Timmy's big round eyes took him in. "Are _you_ the President?" he asked in a small, awed voice. "Not any more," Charlie said. George stared at him. "You didn't give up the White House?" "What else could I do?" Charlie said. "I gave it back to the Indians." End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cry Snooker, by Andrew Fetler