Todd lived."

"I'm passing by his house," said I, more than a trifle puzzled as to what
the police might want with Gus. "Hope it isn't house-breaking,
constable?"

"No, sir," said he, laughing. "It is a matter of ice-breakin'."

I expect I looked mystified.

"Mr. Todd, sir, fished out of the water just below the Low Locks a common
ordinary drunk, Robins--a bargee. That was yesterday afternoon, and this
morning the superintendent sends me to see how he is."

I looked more blankly ignorant than before.

"He's kept it dark, I see, sir. There isn't a bigger fool alive than
Robins when he's drunk--which he mostly--what is--and he acted yesterday
up to the usual form of drunks. He _would_ go on the ice just below
the locks, when it would hardly bear a sparrer, let alone a drunk Robin,
and he naturally goes under before he'd gone a dozen yards. Mr. Todd went
for him without, I fancy, considering the risks. He broke the ice up to
that forsaken Robins, and waded in after him. When _we_ got there he
was up to his neck in water, and he'd got the fool by the collar; then we
pulled 'em both out. Mind, up to his chin in that frozen water! We
thought Robins was a goner from cold when we landed 'im, and asked Mr.
Todd's name as bein' likely to be required at the inquest. But, bless
you, sir, Robins pulled through all right; that sort generally does."

"Was there any one to help Todd, when he went for the fellow?"