 Why was the Space Patrolman surprised that Tolliver referred to Betty as "Miss Koslow"?
The big moon-face of Jeffers, manager of the Ganymedan branch of Koslow Spaceways, glowered back at him. The glowing semi-disk of Jupiter was more than half a million miles distant. "A little percentage here and there on the cargoes never shows by the time figures get back to Earth. "You know I took this piloting job just to scrape up money for an advanced engineering degree back on Earth. It had been built for Ganymede, but not for Jeffers. "Okay I can't fire you legally—as long as you report for work," grumbled Jeffers, by now a shade more ruddy. Tolliver began to have his doubts the next day; which was "Tuesday" by the arbitrary calender constructed to match Ganymede's week-long journey around Jupiter. His contract guaranteed a pilot's rating, but someone had neglected to specify the type of craft to be piloted. On the bulletin board, Tolliver's name stood out beside the number of one of the airtight tractors used between the dome city and the spaceport, or for hauling cross-country to one of the mining domes. He soon found that there was nothing for him to do but hang around the garage in case a spaceship should land. Sometimes there's no reason but them for sending a ship back with a crew instead of in an economy orbit. Under a portable, double-chambered plastic dome blown up outside the ship's airlock, a crewman helped him load two trunks and a collection of bags into the tractor. "Sure," agreed Tolliver thinking, Ohmigod! Trying already to be just one of the gang, instead of Lady Betty! Is her old man the treasurer, or does he just know where bodies are buried? They found they could send back loaded ships by 'automatic' flight—that is, a long, slow, economical orbit and automatic signalling equipment. Then they're boarded approaching Earth's orbit and landed by pilots who don't have to waste their time making the entire trip." He enlarged upon other dangers to be encountered on the satellite, taking care to impress the newcomer with the daredeviltry of John Tolliver, driver of "missions" across the menacing wastes between dome and port. It did not, naturally, indicate he was drawing the salary of a space pilot. "I'm retiring in six months if I'm still alive," he said bravely, edging the tractor into the airlock at their destination. His charge seemed noticeably subdued, but cleared her throat to request that Tolliver guide her to the office of the manager.
 It was a cover name, not her real name.
 It was a cover name, not her real name.  He realized that she was the boss' daughter.  The Space Patrolman didn’t know her name.  She wasn’t supposed to tell anyone who she was.