 Why did Miss Casey give the narrator the piece of paper?
Confidence Game By JIM HARMON Illustrated by EPSTEIN [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction June 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The golden Moon and the silver ship, symbols of greed. "Sure," the man agreed severely, prying a little worriedly at Doc's arthritic fingers that were clamped on his collar. I came alongside and carefully started to lever the old man loose, one finger at a time. If a half dozen winos in Seattle hadn't helped me get them loose, Doc and I would have been wanted for the murder of a North American Mountie. "'Memory Jump,' you mean. All my great-grandfathers have it. I told the human no, thanks, and walked Doc toward the flophouse three doors down. It had happened a few times right after I first found him, but now it was worse. The tubercular clerk looked up from the gaudy comics sections of one of those little tabloids that have the funnies a week in advance. The clerk's hand fell on the coin and slid it off into the unknown before I could move, what with holding up Doc. You don't have any quarter, not if I say so. I was bent double, but I got from the floor to the chair and found my notebook and orb-point in my hands. I found I couldn't focus both my mind and my eyes through the electric flashes of agony, so I concentrated on Doc's voice and trusted my hands would follow their habit pattern and construct the symbols for his words. Somehow, inside me, I knew that these words were what I had been waiting for. They told everything I needed to know to become the most powerful man in the Solar Federation. I remembered that he was somebody very important whose name and work I had once known, even if now I knew him only as Doc. Pain was a pendulum within me, swinging from low throbbing bass to high screaming tenor. I don't know why, but nobody will help you if they think you are blotto. "Do you want it for coffee, or to apply, or a glass or hypo of something else?" This moment should be mine, but there she sat, marring it for me, a contemptible tourist . The hamburger was engulfed by five black-crowned, broken fingernails and raised to two rows of yellow ivory. I surrounded it like an ameba, almost in a single movement of my jaws.
 It was a ploy to learn more about Doc and what he had developed, so she had more evidence
 It was an accident, she had swapped it with the scrap of paper she meant to give the narrator  She wanted to pass the order along to Doc, the only person who could find the book  It was a ploy to learn more about Doc and what he had developed, so she had more evidence  She thought the narrator owed her for her buying him coffee and food, and he could repay her by finding the book