Then a queer change took place. Instead of being pure black, the poodle became streaked black and white! The black color began running out of its hair, and formed a little inky pool on the ground beneath the animal.
"Look! Look!" cried Janet, pointing.
"Those dogs were colored black—they're white poodles dyed black!" cried the man who had taken the part of the Curlytops. "Now what have you to say?" he asked the animal trainer.
"Well—er—those dogs are mine! I don't know who stained 'em black. But I bought 'em of a young man——"
"Was his name Shorty?" asked Ted.
"Well, maybe it was," admitted the showman. "What has that got to do with it? Those are my dogs!"
"They're ours!" insisted Ted. "Shorty was watching our auto when Tip was stolen," he went on, "and he knew where we were taking Top. I guess Shorty broke into our barn the other night, and took Top and colored him black. These are our poodles, and we're going to have them!"
"It looks as though they had you, Professor," said the kind man.
"And we're going to get a policeman!" added Janet.
"Oh, well, if you're sure they are your dogs, take 'em!" growled the showman. "I didn't know they were stolen. A young fellow sold me one some time ago, and I bought the other of him day before yesterday. I did color the dogs black," he admitted, "because they don't get so dirty as white ones. The dye will wash off," he said. "If you are sure these are your poodles, take 'em along!" he said to Ted and Janet.