Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] A hayseed Martian among big-planet slickers ... of course he would get into trouble. But that was nothing compared to the trouble he would be in if he did not get into trouble! Matheny stared out the wall, his hands twisting nervously behind his "Uh!" exclaimed Doran. "And then the Red Ankh Society. You must have seen or heard their ads. 'What mysterious knowledge did the Old Martians possess? What was the secret wisdom of the Ancient Aliens? Now the incredibly powerful semantics of the Red Ankh (not a religious organization) is available would have been too presumptuous. He was talking to an Earthman, who Doran whistled. "That's about all, so far," confessed Matheny. "Perhaps a con is our only hope. I've been wondering, maybe we could organize a Martian bucket shop, handling Martian securities, but—well, I don't know." "Well, hurry up with whatever it is," snapped Peri. "I got a date tonight." "I'll say you do! With a Martian!" Doran's thin sharp face grinned. "You break that date, Peri. Put it off or something. I got this Martian for you, see?" "So? Since when has all Mars had as much spending money as one big-time marijuana rancher? Not to mention the heir ap—" "Sure, sure. But how much are those boys going to spend on any girl, even a high-level type like you? Listen, I need you just for tonight, see? This Martian is strictly from gone. He is here on official apparently sopped up half the Atlantic Ocean. Ears trained to listen through the Martian atmosphere shuddered from the racket conducted by "Oh, we don't expect immigration," said Matheny shyly. He was a fairly Why did they tap me for this job? he asked himself in a surge of homesickness. What the hell is the Martian Embassy here for? here I am, one solitary outlander in the greatest commercial empire the human race has ever seen, and I'm supposed to find my planet a con man! but he wasn't tired the spaceport would pneumo his baggage to him whenever he did check in. The few Martians who had been to Earth had gone into ecstasies over the automation which put any service you could name on a twenty-four-hour basis. But it would be a long time before the Embassy can't act. I may find it advisable to go outside the law. Please, sir, where can I contact the underworld? He wished gambling were legal on Earth. The Constitution of the Martian Republic forbade sumptuary and moral legislation quite apart from the was a practical necessity. Life was bleak enough on the deserts, without being denied the pleasure of trying to bottom-deal some friend who was happily trying to mark the cards. Matheny would have found a Matheny puffed smoke and looked around. His feet ached from the weight a Martian. I am very interested." "There aren't many of us on Earth," agreed Matheny. "Just a small embassy staff and an occasional like me." planet and so on." "We can't afford it," said Matheny. "What with gravitation and distance, such voyages are much too expensive for us to make them for pleasure. Not to mention our dollar shortage." As they entered the shaft, he added wistfully: "You Earth people have that kind of money, at least in your more prosperous brackets. Why don't you send a few tourists to us?" it's a crime to sell such scientifically priceless artifacts, but what can we do? We must live, and the tourist trade is almost nonexistent." "Trouble with it is, I hear Mars is not so comfortable," said Doran. "I to make a world of dust and sand and scrub thorn into fields and woods and seas. We can't do it without substantial help from Earth, equipment and supplies—which can only be paid for in Earth dollars—and we can't export enough to Earth to earn those dollars." Matheny followed Doran past a sign announcing that this show was for Matheny shuddered. "Good Lord, no!" "Huh? But they make thyle right on Mars, don't they?" "Yes. And it all goes to Earth and sells at 2000 dollars a fifth. But you don't think we'd Earth taxes—there's very little profit going back to the distillery on Mars. The same principle is what's strangling us on everything. Old Martian artifacts aren't really rare, for instance, but freight charges and the middlemen here put them out of the mass market." "Have you not got some other business?" to be printed on Earth, and the printer and distributor keep most of the money. We've sold some books and show tapes, of course, but only one has been really successful— I Was a Slave Girl on Mars business, I have heard." "It was our mainstay," admitted Matheny, "but it's been overworked. Martian stamps are a drug on the market. What we'd like to operate is a sweepstakes, but the anti-gambling laws on Earth forbid that." Doran whistled. "I got to give your people credit for enterprise, anyway!" He fingered his mustache. "Uh, pardon me, but have you tried to, well, attract capital from Earth?" "Of course," said Matheny bitterly. "We offer the most liberal concessions in the Solar System. Any little mining company or transport malcontents, oddballs who happen to prefer elbow room and a bill of liberties to the incorporated state—what could General Nucleonics hope to get from Mars?" Matheny shrugged. "I haven't told you anything that isn't known to then?" "Yes. I told you we haven't any tourists. I was sent to hire a business manager for the Martian export trade." "What's wrong with your own people? I mean, Pete, it is not your fault there are so many rackets—uh, taxes—and middlemen and agencies and et cetera. That is just the way Earth is set up these days." Matheny's finger stabbed in the general direction of Doran's pajama top. "Exactly. And who set it up that way? Earthmen. We Martians are babes in the desert. What chance do we have to earn dollars on the scale we need them, in competition with corporations which could buy and sell our whole planet before breakfast? Why, we couldn't afford Matheny felt his eloquence running down and grabbed for the second bad money, it is not what a high-powered sales scientist gets in Newer York. Plus his retirement benefits, which he would lose if he quit where he is now at. And I am sure he would not want to settle on Mars Mars really needs, get me?—is a confidence man." "A what?" "The best and slickest one on Earth, to operate a world-size con game for us and make us some real money." "Con man? Oh. A slipstring." "A con by any other name," said Matheny, pouring down an akvavit. "Me?" Matheny heard his voice climb to a schoolboy squeak. "Me? he became overcautious. They had instructed him on Mars to take chances if he must. "I could tell you a thing or two that might give you a better idea," he "What? But—but—" Matheny hung onto himself and tried to believe that "Oh, it's simple enough," said Matheny. "It's only that we already are operating con games." "On Mars, you mean?" "Yes. There never were any Old Martians. We erected the ruins fifty years ago for the Billingsworth Expedition to find. We've been manufacturing relics ever since." haul," said Matheny. "Not many Terrestrial archeologists get to Mars and they depend on our people to—Well, anyhow—"

<question>:
Why was Matheny sent to find a conman from Earth?

<options>:
A The Martians wanted to start conning Earth
B The Martians did not know what a con was
C The Martians were already making a lot of money conning Earth
D The Martians were already conning Earth but needed help making more money from cons

<answer>:

D