But Jehosophat was wishing that he had been lost, so that he could have had that fine chance to be part of the circus.
Suddenly there was a chorus of barks. Marmaduke had forgotten all about Wienerwurst.
He turned around to look for him and leaned back so far that he almost fell flop off the elephant's back. Tody caught him just in time or there would have been trouble.
The trick dogs were coming into the circus now. Some of them were walking on their hind legs.
Marmaduke listened.
There were so many different barks! Just as many as there were dogs,—deep or squeaky, smooth or creaky, rough or happy, gruff or snappy, and one that Marmaduke knew the very minute he heard it.
"Run—run—run—run—runrunrun!"
Yes, he knew that little voice. He could tell little Wienerwurst's bark anywhere. Somehow it was different from any doggie's in the world. There he was, frisking and scampering and biting at the other dogs' tails, just in fun.
"Run—run run—run—runrunrun!"
And that is just what they did, right into the circus ring where the man in the red cap held out big hoops of paper above the dogs' heads.