"And they leave it, I suppose, as usual?"
"No doubt, sir."
"Well, pull alongside, and a couple of you jump in and see if all is right. People leave their property exposed to all sorts of depredations, and then blame us for not looking after it. Mind how you go, my men. Don't run foul of the barge."
"No, sir. All's right."
From the moment that this conversation had begun, Todd had remained crouching down in the barge, like a man changed to stone. He heard every word—those words upon which hung, or seemed to hang, his life, and his grasp upon the massive piece of iron tightened.
The police-boat gradually advanced, and finally just grated against the side of the barge.
A sudden thought took possession of Todd. With a yell, like that of a mad-man, he, with preternatural strength, moved the heavy mass of iron, and in one moment toppled it over the edge of the barge.
Crash it went into the police-galley. There was then a shriek, and the men were struggling in the water. The piece of iron had gone right through the boat, staving to pieces. It filled and sank.
Todd And The Police Galley.