 Johnson claims to have a multitude of jobs. Which title best describes him and what he does?
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. Medical science is unanimous in proclaiming this magic medicine the sole panacea in the entire history of therapeutics." "And chief of police, no doubt," said Harvey jocosely. Angus Johnson's my name. "On account of the quantity, I'm able to quote a bargain price. Then Johnson rubbed his thumb on his index finger and wetted his lips expectantly. After giving them directions that would take them to the free-water pool, the ponderous factotum of Planetoid 42 shook hands and headed back to the saloon. "Johnson, as I saw instantly, is the victim of a difficult environment, and must charge accordingly." It was on the sixth trip that Joe caught a glimpse of Jupiter-shine on a bright surface off to the left. He uses only one pool, the sweet one! Him and me are the whole Earthman population of Johnson City." Johnson's eight-foot son, topped by a massive roof of sun-bleached hair and held up by a foundation that seemed immovable, had obviously been born and raised in low gravity. Harvey studied it worriedly, put his own hand somewhere on it, swallowed as it closed, then breathed again when his fingers were released in five units instead of a single compressed one.
 Conman.
 Conman.  Bartender.  Mayor.  Sheriff.