where they were—Park Avenue near 49th Street."
"Jump in and I'll take you there," Speedy offered.
"No," said the woman. "We've wasted enough time with you. You've brought us clear out of our way now. With all this traffic it'll take another half hour to get over there. We'll walk. Moreover, since you've driven us wrong, we won't pay our fare."
"Oh, yes, you will," Speedy replied gently but firmly. "You said Paramount Theatre and I've brought you here."
"We won't pay. Come on, Maude."
Speedy laid a detaining hand on her arm. "Listen," he said. "You guessed right—I'm green at this taxi business. But I've been around New York a long time and I've got a friend who's driven taxis for five years. He says, 'When the customer won't pay, call a cop.' And there's one standing right there on the corner of Broadway. Shall I call him?"
The woman glared at him. She hesitated, then opened the handbag she was carrying on her arm. She examined its contents.
"Well, what do you know about that!" she ejaculated in simulated surprise. "I've come away without my money. I couldn't pay you even if you'd earned it. I haven't a cent."
"How about your girl friend?" asked Speedy, indicating the other woman.
"Oh, Maude hasn't any money. It was my treat."
"Then, I'm sorry but you'll have to bust the dollar you've got sticking in your glove," mildly suggested Speedy.
