"Then I'll get one."
"Ten million dollars," said Jones, "is quite a price. Admittedly, I haven't dealt in this sort of traffic before, but—"
"But nothing. Were your name Jones, really and truly Jones, I might ask less."
"Sir?"
"You are Jones exactly as much as I am Smith."
"Sir?" Jones gasped again.
Smith coughed discreetly. "But I have one advantage. I know you. You don't know me, Mr. Arkalion."
"Eh? Eh?"
"Arkalion. The North American Carpet King. Right?"
"How did you know?" the man whose name was not Jones but Arkalion asked the man whose name was not Smith but might as well have been.