 The challenge of the Yukon. It's Yukon King, swiftest and strongest lead dog of the Northwest. Placing the trail for Sergeant Preston of the Northwest Mounted Police. In his relentless pursuit of lawbreakers. On King, on Husky. Gold. Gold discovered in the Yukon. A stampede to the Klondike in the wild race for riches. Back to the days of the Gold Rush. With Sergeant Preston and his wonder dog Yukon King. As they meet the challenge of the Yukon. The case of the crown versus John McTavish was heard before Judge Morton one morning early in April. The defendant and the complaining witnesses were sworn in at the same time. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth? I do. You're John McTavish. Aye, sir. You're charged with cruelty to animals. How do you plead? The cruelty I plead not guilty. You were the complaining officer of Sergeant Preston? Yes, sir. What happened? I didn't see the beating your honor. Lige Hogan here came to headquarters and made the complaint. I went to the dog run in back of McTavish cabin. The dog was nearly dead. Nothing of the sort. Oh dear, oh dear. You two will be allowed to testify when it's your turn. Go ahead, Sergeant. There was a silver gray husky in one of the runs. He was bleeding around the head and on his right shoulder. It was nearly unconscious. I gave him first aid. In your opinion, had the dog been beaten? Yes, sir. With what? There was a length of chain hanging over the fence of the run. There were blood stains on it. All right, Hogan. You witnessed the beating? Yes, sir. McTavish cabin is next door to my store. I heard the dog howling. I went out in back. Evidently, Mc had been trying to break Rowdy to harness. Rowdy? That's the name of the husky. Never mind what Mc had been trying to do. Just tell me what you saw. Mc was beating the dog across the back with a length of chain. I yelled out to him to stop. That he'd kill the poor beast. He shouted back that the dog was his property and he'd treat him the way he saw fit. I told him I'd have the law on him. He's that old? Yes, sir. I went straight to headquarters. Well, Mc? They say the charge is cruelty. Yes. Then I denied. I paid no money for Rowdy, but I've been feeding him for at least a month. And I decided the time had come for him to work for his keep. I tried to harness him and he turned on me. There was nothing to do but teach him who was master. I beat him. I admitted. It was necessary discipline and nothing to do with cruelty. Have you ever seen Sergeant Preston's team? I have. Do you know the team never uses a whip on his dogs? I've heard it said. Sergeant? It's true, sir. And the Sergeant has the best trained team in the Yukon. Maybe. I didn't see what it has to do with the present case. You mentioned necessary discipline. If beatings aren't necessary for the Sergeant, they aren't necessary for you. He's never had to deal with a mean tempered brute like Rowdy. May I say something, Your Honor? Yes, Sergeant. I'm sure the dog isn't vicious. I had no trouble taking care of him. Because I had taught him to behave. No, you didn't. But you may have ruined him as a sled dog completely. Instead of letting him get accustomed to harness gradually, you tried to rush things. I'll admit there's a wild streak in Rowdy, but he's all dog. He isn't a wolf. A little kindness, a little patience. I'm a busy man. I can't waste time on such things. Time is money to me. Then you saved money by beating the dog with a chain. That I did. I wonder. You'll find a hundred dollars. Your Honor. And don't do it again or I'll double that. The dog belongs to me. He's my property. And he's no use if I can't control him. I protest. There's no justice in this court. You will also find a hundred dollars for contempt. Your Honor. Hold him in custody until both fines are paid. Excuse me. Well, there's no justice. I'm not paid. Mac paid his fines grudgingly and left the courthouse grumbling about injustice. He went straight home and to the run where Rowdy was kept. The husky, completely recovered from his beating thanks to the sergeant's care, still hadn't forgotten it. He growled as Mac opened the gate of the run. Get out of here. He didn't understand the man's words, of course, and retired to the far corner of the run, but Mac came in after him. You see, I can't lay a hand on you. Very well then. I can't make a sled dog of you, and I have no intention of paying for your food. Get out of here. The words meant nothing, but Rowdy saw the open gate and seized his chance to escape. He raced toward freedom. Good riddance. Go back to your own kind. The wild beast of the forest. And that was where Rowdy headed, away from town, away from ill treatment, on and on into the forest. Every dog, sooner or later, feels the need of a master or a mistress, some human being to whom he can give his wholehearted devotion. But Rowdy felt no such need that summer, as he roamed the wilderness farther and farther from civilization. Freedom was a wonderful thing, and he enjoyed every minute of every day. It was not until autumn that he felt the need of any companionship. It was not until then that he made a great mistake, which nearly cost him his life. He saw a lone wolf slipping through the forest, and he ran after him, eager to make prayers. He followed him on and on until he reached a clearing, and there were many more wolves. He stopped for a moment and barked a greeting. The answer of the wolf pack was to charge toward him. He realized it once they meant to kill him, and he turned and ran. He ran for a mile after a heartbreaking mile, and still the pack followed him, one wolf after another forcing his pace, until he was nearly exhausted, his heart pounding, his breath coming in labored gasps. It was getting dark when he caught the scent of man. He followed it, unthinking, even when it led him to open ground on the banks of a creek. There was a large cabin there and other buildings. He streaked past the cabin and onto one of the buildings without windows. There he huddled in the shadows. The wolves stopped at the edge of the forest. They howled their rage at being deprived of their prey. Finally, the door of the cabin opened. A man stepped out carrying a shotgun, and with him was a boy about ten years old, his hair shining in the light from the cabin. Well, I've heard enough of their serenading. You're not going into the woods after them. No. A few shots will drive them away. Yes. Now, one more for a good measure. I don't know. They can't be hungry. There's plenty of game in the forest. Anyway, they won't be back. We'll be able to get some sleep. Same here. We'll have to be up with the sun if we're going to wash out our coat of dust tomorrow. Well, we're getting rich aren't we, Pa? Well, we're getting richer inside, buddy. Sooner or later, every dog feels the need of a master, and it's always the dog who picks his master. It may have been at that moment, Rowdy chose ten-year-old Buddy Warme. At any rate, he was grateful. He knew the man and the boy had saved his life, and he slept in the shadow of the storehouse until just before dawn. But he returned to the forest before the man and boy were awake. He didn't see the boy again for several months. The icy winds were blowing through the forest by that time, and the ground was covered with a heavy blanket of snow. It had become more and more difficult to find food. Rowdy had to range far and wide to find enough to keep him alive. It was late one afternoon when Rowdy caught the boy's scent, and it was over a mile from the cabin deep in the forest. There was another scent mingled with the boys, the scent of his enemies, the wolves, and Rowdy was stirred into action. The boy was lying face down in the snow when Rowdy found him. He had tripped and fallen, and he'd hit his temple against a boulder as he went down. There was a small patch of red on the snow near the boy's head. But it was another sight that stiffened Rowdy's ruff and made him bare his lips in a snarl. A huge wolf was circling the boy. Rowdy didn't hesitate. He threw himself at the wolf, knowing this must be a fight to the death, knowing for the first time without any question that the boy was his master. It was the wolf who died, and when body stirred, he found Rowdy's warm body, his thick silver-gray coat protecting him from the wind. Well, you're not a wolf. You must be a dog. What happened to me anyway? I can remember falling. So that's it. I hit this rock. As Buddy struggled to his feet, Rowdy left his side and took cover behind a tree a dozen yards away. Buddy saw the body of the wolf. Well, that one's a wolf for sure. There's been a fight here. The dog and... Here, boy, come here. You saved my life. Come on, fella. Don't you trust me? I won't hurt you. So that's it. You're a dog, but you've gone wild. I wonder if you'll follow me. Come on, fella. Come on. Rowdy did follow him, but only at a distance. His fear of man was so deep-rooted that his instinct for affection couldn't conquer it completely, and he refused to move beyond the cover of the trees at the edge of the forest. He was touched from hiding as the boy ran across the cleared ground to the cabin on the banks of the creek. Pa! Oh, Pa! Buddy, where have you been? We're just getting ready to go out and look for you. I had an accident. You've cut your head. I fell and hit a rock. Hit and knocked me out. Come in here while I wash it. In just a second. Look, see where I'm pointing? Right there under the foot of the big pine. A wolf? He followed you home. Give me a shotgun. How? Well, I'm not exactly sure what happened. When I woke up, that dog was lying close to me, sort of protecting me, keeping me warm. It's true. You might have frozen. That isn't all. There was a big wolf lying in the snow. Dead. The dog must have killed him. Don't you see? The dog saved my life. It's possible. Pa, couldn't we take him in? I don't know. Please? Well, call him. See if he'll come. Here, boy. Here, come on. Back and rowdy toward the cabin, but the sudden gesture filled the dog with panic and he turned tail and ran. You'll never make a pet of that one. I could tame him down. Nobody. He may be a dog, but he's as wild as any wolf. It wouldn't be safe to have him around. Why not? He wouldn't hurt me or you. I'm not sure. It would be too difficult to train him, to keep him out of the storehouse to... Nobody. You'll have to wait a little for a dog. I like this one. I'll give gold by the end of next summer, and then I'll buy you a tea. This dog would make a wonderful lead. Oh, never. Now, come on inside. We have to get some antiseptic on that cut. During the rest of the winter, rowdy often came to the edge of the forest and watched the cabin, as the need for companionship welled in his heart. And although Buddy hardly ever saw him, rowdy was always somewhere near the boy during the summer. Autumn came once more and then suddenly, with no warning, a bitter cold wind whipped down from the north. Snow began to fall on grass that was still green, and it continued to fall hour after hour. On the second night of the blizzard, Buddy went to bed early. His father sat close to the stove reading, and he could hardly believe his ears when someone knocked on the door of the cabin. Well, seldom enough we have travelers in a night like this. About time you entered the door. Come on, Joe. Yes, my old means come in. I could hardly believe it when I heard you knock. How about some food? Oh, sure. Now, take off your pockets. Sit down close to the stove and get warm. Yeah. There's coffee on the stove and cups on the table. Help yourselves. Hey, good idea. This storm was certainly unexpected, wasn't it? Yeah. Must be hard traveling on foot. Better than on horseback. We got snowshoes. Yes, I saw them outside. In a way, you were prepared for the storm. Oh, no, mister. Horses couldn't get to the drifts. We left them at Black Creek Junction. You bought snowshoes there. I see. You'll stay the night, won't you? That depends. You're welcome. It don't depend on that. You got a gun? Well, shotgun. They're on the wall. I'll get it, Joe. Yeah. That's the idea. Never mind. Anybody in that other room? My son is asleep. Take a look, Joe. Sure. Just a kid. Sound asleep. What's the matter with you two? I'll ask the questions you want to answer them. What do you do here? I live here. Hey, look, don't get smart. The pan and gold? A little? A little, he says. We could use some after you finish dishing up the food and try out the dust and we'll have a look at it. You've got a fat chance of... Of what? Stealing my gold. You're not going to steal it. We're going to borrow it. You can find it first. Hey, he's a tough one. Yeah. Maybe we better introduce ourselves so he don't get any ideas. I'm Red Scott and this is Joe Moroni. We're running for murder in Dawson. Murder? Yeah. There's a money after this. Name is Sergeant Preston. We're on our way to the board room. We're running short of money. You're going to lend us some. Is that understood? I won't. You won't what? Let him say it once more and then we'll change his mind for one more. Hey, what was that? In the bedroom. Take a look. The kid he wants to hurt us is going out to win it. Stop him. No, don't! You dirty killers! Hey, you knocked him out. Yeah, I had to. Oh, we got to find a goal ourselves. The cabin isn't big. It won't take long. Start ripping up the floorboards. Rowdy had burrowed in the snow at the edge of the forest to sleep that night. He had wakened when the two men reached the cabin and entered it. He had not settled down to sleep again before he saw the window open and buddy climbed out. A moment later a shot rang out and buddy dropped to the ground. Rowdy forgot his fear completely and raced to the boy's side. He circled him, sniffing his head and hands. And then he raised his head to the sky and howled. Sergeant Preston had built a shelter for his campfire and had stopped long enough to cook some hot food for himself and King. The Sergeant had been forced to leave his horse behind and was traveling on snowshoes. He was only a little more than a mile from Randy Warren's cabin. But he had no idea there was shelter so close. Eat King. We'll be on our way in a minute but we may have to travel all night boy. We must eat. It was not King's anxiety to get started that made him bark. It was the scent of the unseen Rowdy racing toward them. He barked. And Rowdy answered his bark as he flashed into the circle of light around the campfire. There was no hesitation for Rowdy recognized the big man who had treated him kindly so long ago. This man must help the boy. King, I've seen that dog before. He belongs to... Wait a minute. He used to belong to McTavish. This is Rowdy. I thought that chain would leave a scar on his ear. Here Rowdy. Come here boy. Don't you remember me? Rowdy remembered all right and he came as close to the big man as he dared. But then he dashed away barking imploring the Sergeant to follow him. Here Rowdy. Come here. Have something to eat boy. When the big man still remained seated by the campfire, Rowdy came back risking an even closer approach. King seemed to understand Rowdy's message. He looked up into the Sergeant's face. Rowdy dashed away from the campfire again. And King took the bottom of the Sergeant's pocket and his teeth and tugged at it, urging him toward the trail. All right King, all right. We'll get started as soon as I put out this fire. Let's go. The man and the two dogs fought their way through the storm. When they reached the clearing on the banks of the creek, Rowdy ignored the cabin ahead and turned off the trail toward the boy. King looked at the cabin and growled, but kept down with Rowdy. The dogs led the Sergeant straight to the spot where Buddy lay, almost covered with snow. He's been shot in the back. We should get him inside. As the Sergeant looked up and toward the lighted windows of the cabin, King turned his head in the same direction and growled once more. No, I don't like the way you're acting, King. There's no telling what we'll find in that cabin. You'd better do what I can for the boy right here. Quickly the Sergeant went to work with his first aid kit. This is bad. The bullet must come out, but I can't manage that. Do I pass? That's all. The wound was bandaged. The Sergeant took off his pocket and wrapped it around the boy. And then he and King started for the cabin. But Rowdy stayed behind, giving the boy as much protection as he could from the storm. The Sergeant headed for the open window at the side of the cabin instead of the front door. A lot of noise in there. The Sergeant climbed through the window into the darkened bedroom. King jumped in after him. The door to the living room was a gyre, and the Sergeant recognized the voices and realized what they were doing. And all through those covers, those siders go with that sail and the rest. He's four boards up in a minute. Why don't he have flowers tied in the bedroom, tear the mattresses apart, how neat life. And then the Lantern hanging in the wall. You said it's right. The Sergeant took his position behind the half-open door. A moment later, Joe swung it all away open, holding a Lantern high. As he stepped into the room, the Sergeant closed the door behind him and brought the barrel of his revolver down. Joe ducked just enough to catch the blow on the side of his head. He dropped the Lantern and went for his gun. But the Sergeant's second blow caught him squarely, and he dropped to the floor. The Sergeant turned just as the door opened. Red saw him. Their two guns spoke at once. The Sergeant instinctively threw himself to the side, however. It was only Red who was hit. The bullet caught him in the right arm and he dropped his gun. Then the Sergeant moved fast. He snapped handcuffs on both the men. And as King growled menacingly at Red, he picked up their guns and stuck them in his belt. Here I will be taken care of after I attend the way of the business. Guard them, King. Randy Warren was staggering to his feet as the Sergeant entered the living room. Here are Monty. That's right, Sergeant Preston, Northwest Mountain Police. This your cabin? Yes, my name's Warren. They're wearing handcuffs. One of them killed my son. Your son's still alive. I'm going out to get him. Here, take one of these guns and watch those two in the next room. Yes, sir. Rowdy watched as the Sergeant picked up the unconscious boy and started back for the cabin. Come on, Rowdy. But with his adopted master in safe hands, Rowdy's old fears returned and he could do nothing but stand and watch. On the door of the cabin closed, he returned to the edge of the forest and burrowed in the snow. His eyes never left the cabin, though. And two hours later, he saw the Sergeant pull a sled out of the storehouse. He saw him working with ropes and straps until the big dog called King was taken. And when he was pronounced out of immediate danger, the Sergeant returned to the Warren's cabin with Constable Downey, each of them driving a team. Red and Joe were brought back to Dawson to face trial for murder. And Randy Warren traveled with the party, going directly to the hospital when they reached town. Dr. Moran took him to Buddy's room. Your son's wound is healing nicely, Mr. Warren. I'm grateful for what you've done, Doctor. We've done all we can. Frankly, I'm not satisfied with the boy's condition. Are they complications? Not exactly. He just doesn't seem to be recovering his strength as quickly as he should. He doesn't seem interested in anything. I'm hoping that he'll perk up when he sees you. He's in here. Here's your father, Buddy. Oh, Pa. How are you, son? All right, I guess. I just got into town with Sergeant Preston. He's taking those crooks over to jail, and as soon as he gets them locked up, he'll be over to say hello. The doctor says it was the Sergeant who brought me here. That's right. You want to meet him, don't you? Oh, sure. I guess you haven't heard the whole story of what happened the night you were hurt. Well, you heard them say... Randy talked with his son for half an hour, trying to cheer him up, trying to coax a smile from him. But Buddy didn't respond. And then there was a knock at the door of the room. I'll see you with his. Hello, Sergeant. May I see the patient? Of course. Come in. King, too? Of course. Come on, bud. Here's Sergeant Preston now, Buddy. Hello. Hello, Buddy. Is this King? The one who pulled our sweat all the way to Dawson? This is King. Shake hands with Buddy, boy. Oh, King. Randy, notice the exchange of expression on Buddy's face as he looked at King. Then ideas struck him. Buddy, you've been wanting a dog. You know what we're going to do? We're going to buy one as soon as you get well. The boy's smile faded. No, thanks. But I thought you wanted one. I have one. No, you haven't. Well, he isn't exactly mine, but he's the only one I want. I wish you weren't afraid of me. Haven't you forgotten that wild dog yet? I wish you weren't afraid of me. What's this all about? A wild dog that lives in the forest near the cabin. Gray Husky. Rowdy. Well, he has no name that I know of. That's his name. I saw him the night I came to your cabin. Was he who led me to Buddy? Almost as big as King. Gray? Yes, Buddy. He led you to me? He certainly did. He came to my camp and convinced King that something was wrong. Together, they made me follow them. But he must like me some, even if he is afraid. Of course he does. Sergeant, may I speak to you for a moment? Oh, certainly, Doctor. What do you think of that boy? My dog's name is Rowdy. And this is the second time he's saved my life. Could it be possible this wild dog that you're talking about followed you and Buddy here? I don't think so. Well, there's a gray Husky who's been hanging around the back door of the hospital for the last week. I'll take a look at him. If it were the dog the boy thinks so much of, and if he could be brought in here, I mean persuaded to come quietly, it would mean more to Buddy than any medicine I could give him. Come on, King. We'll investigate. It was Rowdy, the sergeant found outside the hospital. And it was true that he'd been standing guard there for nearly a week, hardly ever leaving his post to look for food. He was lean and hungry, but his only thought was of Buddy. The boy was inside the hospital, and Rowdy would have liked nothing better than to enter the building. There had been opportunities to slip in too. His courage hadn't been equal to crossing the threshold. Now for the first time, he held his ground as the door opened, for it was a friendly face he saw, the face of the man who had cared for him after he'd been beaten, the face of the man who had helped his master, and the man was asking him to come closer. Come on, Rowdy. So was the dog who was with the big man, and Rowdy wasn't proof against such friendliness. He walked toward them. That's a good dog. Now wouldn't you like to come inside and say hello to Buddy? Come on, Rowdy. Come on. A quiet voice, the gentle reassuring touch of the big man's hand on his head, and King beside him, encouraging him, gently nudging him toward the door. These gave Rowdy the courage he needed. He entered the building. He did want to find the boy. He did want to make sure his master was all right. And step by step, in spite of the strange surroundings, in spite of the strange people, he walked down the long corridor between the Sergeant and King, until finally they reached the door. And Rowdy knew the boy was behind it. In here, Rowdy. It is Rowdy. He's been waiting outside the hospital for you all week long. For me? I don't think so. Why don't you call him and find out? Oh, I will. Yes, son. Oh, Rowdy. Rowdy, please come here. Rowdy trodded across the room to his master. I love you, Rowdy. Well, King. This case is closed. In our next adventure, the man had been shot in the chest, and Sergeant Preston vanished the wound before he questioned the Indians who had drawn him to the village. All right, my uncle. Tell me how it happened. Two fellers make this man walk in tunnel. A bold mine. Then shoot. Then use blast powder. Blow off entrance to mine. To conceal the body. But there are other way in mine. Indian go in. Find this fellow back in main tunnel. Bring him here. Send word to you. And the men who shot him? Where are they? Them take trail for north. Trying to get across the border. Left to catch them, King. But the two killers aware that the body of their victim has been found, and certain they will be followed are lying in wait in crystal canyon. The Sergeant and King are heading straight into their ambush. Don't miss this next exciting adventure. These radio dramas, a feature of the challenge of the Yukon Incorporated, are created by George W. Trendle, produced by Trendle Campbell Enterprises, directed by Fred Flower Day, and supervised by Charles D. Livingston. The part of Sergeant Preston is played by Paul Sutton. The challenge of the Yukon is brought to you every Saturday and Sunday. This is J. Michael, wishing you good bye and good luck until our next adventure. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System.