P. G. Wodehouse

“ The chauffeur ignored the question.
"This is his busy day," said the first thick-neck with satire. "Guy's too full of work to talk to us."
"Deaf, shouldn't wonder," surmised the Kid.
"Say, wonder what he's doin' with a taxi so far out of the city."
"Some guy tells him to drive him out here, I guess. Say, it'll cost him something, too. He'll have to strip off a few from his roll to pay for this."
Psmith, in the interior of the cab, glanced at Mr. Parker.
"You heard, Comrade Parker? He is right, I fancy. The bill—"
Mr. Parker dug viciously at him with the revolver. ”

“ One cannot have everything in this world, and the Kid and his attendant thick-necks were content to watch the process of mending the tyre, without demanding the additional joy of sparkling small-talk from the man in charge of the operations. ”

“ Smith?" asked the Kid.
"I'll tell you about it as we go, Comrade Brady," said Psmith, stepping into the road. "Riding in a taxi is pleasant provided it is not overdone. For the moment I have had sufficient. A bit of walking will do me good."
"What are you going to do with this guy, Mr. Smith?" asked the Kid, pointing to Parker, who had begun to stir slightly.
Psmith inspected the stricken one gravely. ”