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for that.”
    Selby pretended to sleep so well that soon he was really asleep. When he awoke it was evening and there was no one in the house.
    â€œThis is great,” Selby thought. “The Trifles are probably driving the brat back to Aunt Jetty’s house. I think I’ll just nip over to the Windy Scrub Circus to check out Barney the Balancing Miracle Dog.”
    Selby waited behind the circus tent till he saw a trainer leading three elephants and two camels into the back entrance.
    â€œI’ll just sneak in with this lot,” he thought as he trotted along into the darkness beside one of the elephants, “and no one will notice. There are times when it pays not to be human.”
    Just then a strong pair of hands reached out and grabbed him.
    â€œHey, Eliot!” the voice said. “I’ve got the dog.”
    â€œWhat dog is that, Ian?” another voice answered.
    â€œThe one from the agency. He’s replacing Barney the Balancing Miracle Dog.”
    â€œWhat happened to Barney?”
    â€œHe fell off the wire. Broke all four legs. Luckily he hit a camel on the way down.”
    â€œOne hump or two?”
    â€œTwo, fortunately. One hump and he would have been history,” the man said. “Quick. Help me get him into this basket. He’s on right now.”
    Before Selby could bite or scratch or even scream out in plain English, he found himself in an open basket being lifted by a rope to the very top of the gigantic tent. Music played and the crowd cheered as the basket reached the tiny platform at one end of the highwire. Then Fred Ferguson, of the Flying Fergusons, tipped him out of the basket. Selby took one look down and held tight to Fred as the crowd went quiet and a drum roll started.
    â€œGet out there, dog,” Fred said in a loud whisper as he pulled the clinging Selby loose and pushed him towards the wire.
    â€œNo way!” Selby thought, grabbing a long balancing pole in his teeth to make it harder for Fred to push him. “I’ll just play dumb till they realise their mistake. There’s no way I’m going out on that wire.”
    â€œThey’ve sent us another hopeless dog, Frieda,” Fred Ferguson whispered across to the woman on the platform at the other end of the wire. “What can we do?”
    â€œYou could give him a good shove,” Frieda suggested. “But it’s no good if he doesn’t feel up to it. He’ll only fall and make a mess and put everyone off their fairy-floss.”
    â€œCrikey!” Selby thought, swallowing hard and covering his eyes with one paw. “Put them off their fairy-floss! How do I get into these things?”
    Just then there was a yell from the audience. “It’s him, uncle!” Barnstorm Billy shouted. “It’s Selby! He reads newspapers and he does circus tricks! Look!”
    â€œOh, no, they’ve brought the brat to the circus,” Selby said, peering down into the darkness.
    And in the silence, Selby heard Dr Trifle say, “You’re right. It
is
Selby! But it can’t be. Selby’s no acrobat. Besides, he’s too old to walk a highwire.”
    â€œI’m a goner,” Selby thought. “If I don’t walk the wire the Trifles will know it’s me. They’ll believe Barnstorm Billy. They’ll know I was reading the newspaper. My secret will be out and … and … and then what? They’ll be happy at first. I’ll be welcomed into the familyfold and I’ll sit at the table at dinnertime. But then what? Then it will be: ‘Selby, dear, do you mind answering the phone while we’re out?’ and ‘Selby, dear, would you mind popping down to the shops?’ and ‘Today we’re going to show you how to use the lawnmower'. Gulp. I don’t want to answer the telephone or do the shopping or mow the blinking lawn! What do they think I am, their slave? I’ll have to go out on that wire.