"Well, are you?"
"Who, me?"
"Can it!" snapped the newcomer.
Farradyne shrugged angrily. "What do you want me to do?" he asked in a mild tone. "You have the jump on me. You slide into my seat and bar my exit and then without introducing yourself you start asking questions that could get me twenty years in poor surroundings with bad company and no pay."
"Call me Mike. Michael Cahill is the name."
"Any identification that doesn't bark for itself?"
"It's usually good enough."
"Probably. But the numbers on its calling cards are always someone else's."
Mike laughed. "That's not bad, Farradyne. But so far as I know your number isn't among those present."
"I'll bet you could change a number fast enough."