 Who is the Old Man Casey refers to in the first paragraph?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Fall 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] But—and this was the 'but' that was likely to deprive the System of my activities—even experimenting with them was illegal even if it needed to be done; also, I had promised not to rat on him before taking the job. Well, Casey Ritter may be a lot of things we won't mention, but he doesn't rat on his clients. So there I was, closeted with the ten members of the S.S. Customs Court, getting set to hear the gavel fall and the head man intone the sentence that would take me out of circulation for a long, long time. I'd argued with 'em, but inside I'd been all set for the sentence, and even sort of reconciled to it. He frowned me down and then nodded at the judge on his right. "You've no doubt heard tales of the strange population of Jupiter," he said. "Aw, hell, judge, that's just one of those screwy fairy tales! How could any—" The senior judge rapped ferociously, and I skidded to a halt. Our little story teller patiently cleared his skinny throat again. We possess well-authenticated photographs of these inhabitants, and if you are prepared to visit them and in some way worm from them the secret of their anti-gravity field, the government stands ready to issue you a full pardon as well as a substantial monetary reward. Well, a cross between a scorpion and a grasshopper, to be accurate. After all, in the pen a man can eat and breathe, and a guard won't reach in and nip off an arm or leg while he's got his back turned. Me, Casey Ritter, slickest slicker in the Solar System, led like a precious infant right where I'd flatly refused to go! "I just made a pass at the Killicut Emeralds, that's all, and got nabbed." "What were you trying to do, start a feud between us and Mars?" Big as hen's eggs, an even dozen of 'em; and flawless, I'm a-shoutin', not a flaw!" Those emeralds were in the inner shrine of the super-sacred, super-secret temple of the cavern-dwelling tribe of Killicuts on Mars—the real aborigines. "But then I went and made her mad, an' I'm kinda persona non grata there right now.
 God
 The S.S. Customs Court Judge  God  Pard Hoskins  The Experimentalist Doctor