 Despite the menu prices for the restaurant food being remarkably low, how were Harvey and Joe met with an outrageous bill of 328 buckos?
GRIFTERS' ASTEROID By H. L. GOLD Harvey and Joe were the slickest con-men ever to gyp a space-lane sucker. When Harvey staggered pontifically into the battered metalloy saloon—the only one on Planetoid 42—his tall, gangling partner was already stumbling out, mouthing something incoherent. Paying no attention to them, it was carrying a case of liquor in two hands, six siphons in two others, and a broom and dustpan in the remaining pair. The interplanetary con-men drank noisily, asked for more, until they had drunk eight glasses. Medical science is unanimous in proclaiming this magic medicine the sole panacea in the entire history of therapeutics." Our condenser broke down, and we've gone without water for five ghastly days." Water's five buckos a glass. "Friend," said Harvey, taking out a wallet and counting off eight five-bucko bills, "here is your money. "And chief of police, no doubt," said Harvey jocosely. "About seventy-five liters, if we go on half rations," he answered. "On account of the quantity, I'm able to quote a bargain price. Shucks, boys, it hurts me more to charge for water than it does for you to pay. The planetoid man worked the pump while the mayor intently watched the crude level-gauge, crying "Stop!" when it registered the proper amount. Then Johnson rubbed his thumb on his index finger and wetted his lips expectantly. Ten buckos a liter would be preposterous.
 They were charged for services and entertainment.
 They were charged for an insane amount of overhead.  They were charged for services and entertainment.  They didn't notice the additional zeros added on to the prices of the menu items  They were not informed of the tax charged onto the meal.