 Now, as gunshots echo across the windswept snow-covered reaches of the Wild Northwest, Quakerpuff wheat and Quakerpuff rice, the breakfast cereal shot from guns, the challenge of the Yukon. It's Yukon King, swiftness and strongest lead dog of the Northwest, placing the trail for Sergeant Preston of the Northwest modern police in his relentless pursuit of lawbreakers. Yukon King, run, you huskies! Gold, gold scoured in the Yukon, a stampede to the clondike in the wild race for riches, back to the days of the gold rush, with Quakerpuff wheat and Quakerpuff rice, bringing you the adventures of Sergeant Preston and his bitter dog Yukon King, as they meet the challenge of the Yukon. It's not too late. Start now, today. Yes, hurry. Get started on your new Quaker miniature model farm. Listen. That's Topsy, your model Shetland pony. And that's Queenie the Collie, your model farm watchdog. These and 44 other colorful, detailed scale models of farm animals, farm buildings and equipment all come with a complete new Quaker model farm. There are 46 different models in all, and they're yours at no extra cost. And listen to this. There's no waiting, nothing to send in. No money, box tops or Koopa. Listen to how you can start your own Quaker model farm right here and now. Tonight, you'll hear full details in just a few minutes. You can't afford to miss this amazing offer made by Quakerpuff wheat and Quakerpuff rice, the breakfast cereals shot from guns. The Chilcute and the White Passes were the only entrances to the Yukon territory from the south. The Northwest mounted established customs posts at the top of both of them in 97. And it was that winter that Sergeant Preston drove down from Dawson. He had a load of mail from the sourdows in the Klondike and $25,000 in gold for delivery to the Great Northwest Trading Company in Skagway. Skagway was in American territory, and he applied to Major Ward, the chief of the force, for permission to leave the Yukon. It's only a 20 mile run, sir. If I leave early tomorrow morning, I can be back here by midnight. You're the first man to come down from the Klondike since the freeze up. Yes, sir. Skagway's changed, Sergeant. There are 10,000 people there now, and every one of them wants to get to Dawson. If they find out where you've come from, you'll be a hero. I'll make sure they don't, Major. On the contrary, it might be a good idea. Why, sir? Well, for the first time, we're in a position to check every person who comes through either Chilcute or White Pass at the border. Yes, sir. This rush, this stampede, is getting larger every minute. And it's our job to preserve law and order throughout the territory. The best way to do that is to make sure that no criminal enters the Yukon. I agree. How, though? There are a lot of them in Skagway, from confidence men to killers. And we only know a few of them by sight. I have a suggestion. Yes, sir? See what you think of this. You make your trip to Skagway, but you don't wear a uniform. Instead of being Sergeant Preston, you're a professional dog puncher. Your 40-mile bill. 40-mile being the town I come from. Oh, no. The reason for the name is that you make 40 miles a day on the trail. That was your bridge coming down, wasn't it? Just about. Now, my suggestion is this. That is, 40-mile bill, you stay in Skagway for the next two weeks and make a complete list of all the undesirables in the town. We'll be able to stop every one of them at the border. How about it, Sergeant? It should work. I'll do my best, sir. Good. But be careful. Out of uniform and in American territory, you'll be entirely on your own. I want you to come back. Is that an order, sir? It most certainly is. King, you make sure that he evades it. Dog, dog, dog, dog. And so, dressed as any other prospector, the Sergeant drove down from White Pass to the boom town of Skagway. The town was crowded with men from every walk of life and from every part of the world. Cowboys and clerks, lawyers, gamblers, merchants, thieves. There was no law, and the dregs of the San Francisco underworld preyed on the innocent. The Sergeant delivered his gold to the Great Northwest Office and then started on a tour of the town with King trotting at his side. Their first stop was Sophie Smith's infamous 303 Club. King. There were two men sitting at the table next to the one with the Sergeant sat down. One was an older man dressed in black broadcloth. The other was a Texan. Well, from the stories I heard, Mr. Conover, I thought that anybody could go up there and stake a claim. That's perfectly true. There's only one bonanza. And the claims were all stake on that creek? They have been for six months. Well, then I guess I'll have to try one of the other creeks. You won't find gold on them. You sure of that? I've prosecuted most of them myself. You mean it's just been a waste of time and money coming up here? It's been a waste of time for most of these chichacos. But I'm going to give you a break, Tex. How's that? I've got a claim on the bonanza that I'm willing to sell. I don't have much money, Mr. Conover. It won't take much to buy it. Just $2,000. I got that much. But how can you afford to sell for so little? A claim that might be worth hundreds of thousands. Beggars can't be choosers, Tex. What? You're broke? Stony. And I've got a sick wife back in Portland. She needs me bad. Oh, I see. Now, here are the papers. I want you to notice the government seal on them. That proves they're legal. Mr. Conover, I don't like to take advantage of a man just because he's had some hard luck. Ah, that proves you're all right, Tex. That proves you're the man I want to sell my claim to. What's the number of the claim? What's that? I couldn't help hearing what you were saying. If Tex isn't interested, I'd like to buy a claim on bonanza for $2,000. You heard what he said, Tex. But I'm not selling to you, Mr. Go back to your table. What's the number of the claim? Get out of here. Must have a number. It has 42 above discovery. Now move on to mind your own business. Well, that's George Moriarty's claim. I meant below discovery. There isn't any 42 below discovery. What do you know about it? I just came from there. From the Klondike, Mr.? All the way, Tex. Too bad you didn't stay there. Conover, where you going? You're not still anxious to buy that claim, are you? Mr. I may be pretty dumb, but I'm not that bad. So Conover's just a bunco artist. That paper he wanted to sell me wasn't worth anything. You could light a fire with it. I could do that with my $2,000. A mighty expensive heat. Thanks, Mr. You're welcome, Tex. Conover told you the truth about one thing. All the claims on the bonanza are a stake, but you can't buy one for $100,000. How about the other creeks? Some of them are being staked. Some aren't. Conover said there wasn't any gold on them. No telling about that. The old saying still holds good. Gold is where you find it. I'm interested about the trail to Dawson. How long did it take you to get here? 16 days. 16? That's 650 miles. Say, that's a record, isn't it? Not at all. What's your name? Just call me Bill, 40-mile Bill. I'm Tex Bellow. And I want you to meet some friends of mine. Hey there, men. Come on over and meet a genuine sourdough. Just come down from Dawson. His name's 40-mile Bill. Tell us about it, mister. Streets pay with gold like the safe. What chances are taking you claim it? Is it safe to travel this time of year? Did you come for Dawson here? Take it easy, take it easy, boys. I'll answer your questions, but let's have them one at a time. Oh, the sergeant answered all the men's questions. The condition of the trail, the supplies one needed, the best way to harness a dog team, the amount of gold that was being taken out of the Klondike claims, the amount that would be taken out during the spring cleanup. Then suddenly, a waiter shouldered through the crowd to his side. What'd you do to Conover? Conover? That's the galoot I was talking to. Oh, I just put him straight as to who owned what on the bonanza. He cleared his pitch, huh? He's one of Sophie's men. You better get out of here. Not until I get something to eat. You better forget about food and make tracks. He's talking to Butch and Blackie out in the back room. Get out of here and get this good. I don't like running away. Better men than you've been thrown out of the 303. It won't only be Butch and Blackie and Conover. All of our tenders will take care of him. Maybe I have some friends here, too. Yeah. I think so. Look at him clearing out. They don't want any part of Sophie's strong arm squad. I'll stick by you, Bill. Thanks, Tex. You'll end up with a couple of broken heads. Whose side are you on? Well, I'm just the waiter here. But don't say I didn't warn you. Here they come. Let's get our backs to the wall, Tex. Good idea. During the few seconds the waiter had been talking to the sergeant, the crowd had left the 303, and the waiter followed them out of the front door. Conover, a hulking brood on either side of him, advanced toward the sergeant. As they saw him, each of the bartenders reached down for a blackjack and circled at the front of the bar. 10 feet away from the sergeant, Conover stopped. Easy, King. That's him. You better take care of the Texan, too. What's the idea, Conover? You've got a lesson coming, Mr. The only way to get along in scared ways is to mind your own business. Oh? Well, one pupil, you seem to need a lot of teachers. Well, you don't waste any time at the 303. A minute, King. All right, get him. Yeah, I don't like the looks of the dog. You know your job. Sure. The rest of you boys close in with us. All right, sir. Now beat that dog off if he comes at us. You ready, butch? Of course, sir. Come on, then. The two bouncers started forward, the bartenders following them. The sergeant and Tex were standing behind a table. The sergeant kicked it open. Then put your black in the others closed in, and the fight was on. King threw himself at Blackie, and the sergeant was able to land a right on such a jaw that staggered him. But it was the last moment the sergeant, Tex and King, held with advantage. From that moment on, they fought with their backs to the wall, desperately warding off the attacks of half a dozen men. They fought bravely as well, and one man after another was driven back by the crashing force of the sergeant's right. King guarded his master of many attacks from the side, but it was only a question of time before the odds would take their toll, and one of the blackjacks would hit its back. I'm sorry, Mr. I can't keep on much longer. Keep your guard up in your eyes open. We're not beating yet. A chair sailed through the air and caught Tex on the side of the table. He fell to the floor. The sergeant stepped in front of him and carried on alone. The bunch and two of the bartenders were lying on the floor with Tex, but Blackie and three others could concentrate their attack on the sergeant now. King dodged the blow of the blackjack and leaped at the man who tried to hit him. The man yelled in panic and retreated. Then the sergeant connected solidly with Blackie's jaw and he went down. Conover urged the others to close in on Preston. Instead, they backed away. It seemed that the sergeant would be able to help Tex to his feet and leave the cafe until a cold voice rang out from the doorway. You're by the wall. Up with your hands or I shoot. How are you? The name is Sophie Smith. We'll continue our story in just a moment. Fellows and girls, don't wait another day. 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Gone over, threw some water on them. Get the police running again. I know what he did. Now I'll handle him in my own way. What's your name? They call me 40 Mile Bill. That's good enough. Go on back to my office. I have a friend here, I won't leave him. He'll be taken care of. Yes, that's what I'm afraid of. Jay, take the Texan to wherever he lives. If he needs a doctor, call one out, Jay. Sure thing, boss. Is that city's very near? I guess so. Then March, my office is in the bag. Easy, boy. Come along. Open the door. Sit down there in front of the daisy. Can I lower my hands? Why not? You won't make a move. You are still covered. Sit down. So you tip the Texan off that Conover was trying to sell him off only clean. Why? Because I didn't want to see him get cheated. Look, Bill, Conover pays me 50% of everything he makes for my protection. You queered a sale. So I figure you've cheated me out of $1,000. I'm a businessman. I'm running the only kind of business that has a chance of making money in Skagway. I ought to make you pay me $1,000 I've lost. You'd have a hard time. Have you got any money? Some. Let's see it. Some have spoke here. Got five ounces. That's right. Then you have come from Dawson. Of course. Hey, think you realize by now that it isn't wise to interfere with my business. So I'm going to forget all about it. In fact, I'll give you a job. Doing what? I can use a man with a good dog team and a man who can handle himself in a fight. I still say doing what? Help out in a little operation, I'm bladding. Aren't you, uh, pretty particular for a man who doesn't use a last name? I haven't said I wasn't interested. How much money? $100 a day It sounds all right. Good. When's the job start? This week sometime. How long is it last? As long as it takes you to get to Dawson. You're planning to go there? Don't you think the Northwest Mother might have some objection to me crossing the border? Yeah, I do. Never mind about that. You can make this your headquarters. Hang around for a few days and we'll be ready for the action. That's all for now. Go on. After leaving the cafe, Sergeant Preston made inquiries and located the cabin where Tex was staying. Bill, I'm still grateful for what you did. But I'd rather not have anything more to do with you. I must have made a mistake about you. In what way? A friend of mine was here a minute ago. He says you're working for Soapy now. News travels fast. Then it's true. In a way. Well, that's my reason. Once you get mixed up with that gang, well... I understand. But maybe we'll meet sometime later in the Yukon, Tex. Things might be different then. You better watch your step or they'll never let you back into the Yukon. I'll take a chance on that. Come on, King. Tex's attitude was reflected in that of the other honest citizens of Skagway. One of the leaders of the trail now would have nothing to do with him. He was branded as one of Soapy's Smith's hirelings. But there was no better vantage point from which to view the criminal population of Skagway than the 303 Cafe. And in a few days his mission was nearly completed. Then one evening he was summoned into Soapy's office. Butch and Blackie and a dozen others were gathered around Soapy's desk. When are you going to decide you're among friends, Bill? You got your dog with you. I'm sure that he's a friend. Did you hear that speech? He has a right to play it, King. He doesn't know what this is all about yet. Hang on a gun. So are you. Don't worry, Blackie. He isn't taking your job. Where's Conaway? Shut the door. We'll get started. Bill, I've decided to go to Dawson. Yeah? When do we start? You know it isn't as simple as that. There's the business of getting through one of the passes. Now you can check my information, Bill, but I'm sure it's correct. The main Northwest Mother post is at White Pass. That's right. About 20 men there now. But there are only two Redcoats on duty at the top of the Chilcoot. I can't say about that. Only two. So naturally that's the best place to cross the border. You understand what you ought to do, Blackie. Sure. We're ready to start out any time. It will be in less than an hour and we're ready. And by the time they finish their job, Bill, you and I can drive through the pass and there'll be no one to stop us. We'll go straight on to Dawson, I see. You'd better get your team around here. We'll load it with the supplies we need. Okay. As who is it? Hello, man. Who's that with you? Somebody you ought to talk to, boss. Some other time. It's gotta be right now. Come on, Joe. What's the idea? It's important. Meet Joe Burnside. Hello. Joe's an old friend of mine. I knew him in Frisco. I can vouch for him. Well... Just happened to run into him tonight. He was up in 40 mile last year. We got to talking about the trip you were planning. Your orders were to keep your mouth shut. Listen. I asked Joe if he'd ever met him. He hadn't. But then I described him. And I described his lead dog. You changed your mind, didn't you, Joe? I sure did. There he is standing beside you. Who is he? Sophie. This is Sergeant Preston of the Northwest Monument. As the man spoke, the sergeant's gun was out of its holster. He fired and the lamp on Sophie's desk crashed to the floor. I asked Joe if he'd ever met him. He fired and the lamp on Sophie's desk crashed to the floor. The room was plunged in darkness. Besides the door to the cafe, there was another that opened outside. In the confusion, the sergeant fought his way toward it. Come on, King. He and King slipped out into the night and started to run. But they had hardly gained the shadow of the next building when they heard Sophie's men pouring out of the cafe after them. The sergeant's team was in the run back of the hotel. It would be suicide to try and reach them. And on the trail that lay ahead, on foot could make better time than driving a sled. A man that is in the sergeant's superb condition. Pardoned by days of running behind a sled on hard-packed trails. But the first problem was to get out of town without being caught. The sergeant and King darted from shadow to shadow, threading through the back streets until they reached the outskirts in the trail to White Pass. The pursuit was far behind them now. The sergeant stopped, pulled a notebook out of his pocket and scribbled a message. Sophie Smith, on Chilcoute, send reinforcements. The sergeant attached the note to King's collar. Headquarters King, the major, headquarters boy. For a moment, the sergeant watched the great dog racing up the trail. Then he turned and headed north. He ran hard, knowing that he must reach the foot of the trail leading up to Chilcoute before any of the men from town. And his own route had been indirect. The mountains towered in White Majesty above him. But all his concentration was on the treacherous broken ground. At last, he looked toward the west and he could see the trail from Skagway. There were men on it, and he lengthened his stride. There was the slit in the mountains above him. There was Chilcoute Pass, another hundred yards, and he was at the foot of the ascent. He stopped for only a second to get his breath. Sophie Smith, all right, and they recognized me. No time to lose. He started up. The trail was dangerous, steep and icy, but he must maintain his speed even if a misstep would send him hurtling back down the trail toward his pursuers. Up and up, 1,500 feet, and the men below him were firing at him. The sergeant never faltered even when the ascent grew steeper at the end climb. And finally there came his reward, the sight of a familiar figure at the opening of the pass, Corporal Tom Downey. Sergeant, what's the trouble? I'll tell you in a minute. Yes. Oh, I'm all right. Who's up here with you? Barnes. He's in the shed. Do you have anything to build a barricade in the middle of the trail? Sleds and packing cases. Good enough. Those of Sophie Smith's men below are after you and me and Barnes that want to clear the force out of the pass. There must be 50 of them. There are. But I sent a message to the Major asking for help. We've got to hold them off until he gets here. Come on, the barricade. Right. The three men, the sergeant, the Corporal and Constable Barnes, worked with frantic haste. And as Sophie's men near the top, they opened fire from behind a makeshift gun. Sophie's men took to the sides of the trail and turned. Then, little by little, from one point of cover to another, they started working their way toward the top. There's no stopping him. It's open ground in front here. We'll have to show themselves before they can rush us. Keep at it. Right, sir. And the gunfight continued without any letter. And Sophie's men called closer and closer. Their bullets ripped into the wooden barrier and Barnes was hit. Downey carried him back to the shack while the sergeant held the pass alone. Downey returned with more ammunition and the fight went on. Two hours. And the guns were blistering hot before there was a lull. Think they've had enough? More likely they're getting ready to charge. Listen, that's King. Sure? Our men will be with him. At last. I have an idea. What's that? Sophie's men are in Canadian territory now. They keep one coming. We'll be able to arrest a lot of them. They'll turn around when they see we have reinforcements. They won't. You stay here for a minute. I'll be right back. Right. Only a hundred feet below the barrier, blocky and con over, we're holding a console of war. We might as well get it over with. You ready to take the lead? Maybe. Shoot a couple of times more. I'll reply. We may have gotten all of them. Give it to them once more. I'm convinced. You ready? Yeah, I'll take the lead. Man! They be the cleared out of the dead. Come on, follow me. The men charged up the slope to the opening of the pass. There were no shots behind the barrier. Packages were broken up, trust aside. They ran on into the pass. But suddenly, as they neared the rough shelter where costable barns had been taken. All right, go! From behind the boulders, above the trail, in front and in back of Sophie's men, the catchment of Mounties opened fire. It was only for a moment the outlaws fought back and then panic seized them. Con over himself was the first to throw down his gun and surrender. You're all under arrest in the name of the Queen. Hold on, your gun. Blackie and the others obeyed the sergeant's command, and all of them were marched to jail in Whitehorse. The following day, when the sergeant had made his final report to the Major... A fine job, Sergeant. I see the number of the men you've named here are in jail already. The rest will never get past our guards at the border. I'm glad you were able to send help so soon, sir. Sergeant, I had no choice. King insisted on it, didn't you, King? As in it was a strange thing. He must have left you just outside of Skagway. He did, sir. But he seemed to know where you'd gone. He wanted to head for a chill-coat. That is strange. I don't know how he knows such things. Maybe it's because you like me a little, is that it, boy? I like you too. Thanks for the good work, King. The case is closed. In just a moment, Sergeant Preston will give you a preview of Monday's adventure. Hurry! Hurry! Times of wasting! Yes, hurry to your grocer. He now has special new model farm packages of Quaker Puffed Wheat and Quaker Puffed Rice. Start building your complete miniature model farm without delay. You get as many as six different, easily assembled, exciting models on a single package. That's on the new packages of the cereal shot from gun. There's no waiting, no extra cost. Get in on the fun. Start building yourself a swell model farm at once. These new models come only with delicious Quaker Puffed Wheat and Quaker Puffed Rice. They're waiting for you now on Grocer's shelf, so hurry! These radio dramas, a feature of the challenge of the Yukon Incorporated, are created and produced by George W. Trenble, directed by Fred Flower Day, and supervised by Charles D. Livingston. The part of Sergeant Preston is played by Paul Sutton. They are brought to you every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at the same time by Quaker Puffed Wheat and Quaker Puffed Rice. The breakfast cereal shot from gun. Listen Monday, when Sergeant Preston and Yukon King meet the challenge of the Yukon in the case of the Mystery of the Cave. When the Inspector of Dawson City sent King and me to investigate strange deaths and smuggling at Barricity, I had no idea what was to come. But believe me, what followed was the most terrifying experience that King and I have had in the Yukon. Be sure to hear this exciting adventure Monday. Till then, this is J. Michael wishing you good bye, good luck and good health from Quaker Puffed Wheat and Quaker Puffed Rice. So long.