 Now, as gunshots echo across the windswept snow covered reaches of the wild northwest, Quaker pup wheat and Quaker pup rice, the breakfast cereal shot from guns, present the challenge of the Yukon. It's Yukon King, swiftness and strongest leet dog of the northwest, placing the trail for Sergeant Preston of the northwest modern police in his relentless pursuit of lawbreakers. 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 Quaker pup wheat and Quaker pup rice bringing you the adventures of Sergeant Preston and his wonder dog Yukon King as they meet the challenge of the Yukon. Yippee, ride on cowboy! Yes, sirree, little wonder many a he-man Hollywood movie star goes for this breakfast. It's well-tasting Quaker pup rice or Quaker pup wheat with milk or cream and fruit. These king-size, ready-to-serve premium grains of rice or wheat pack a man-size taste wallop. They're good for you, they're shot from guns. Yes, actually exploded up to eight times normal size to make them crisp and tender as nuts in November. Tomorrow sure, treat yourself swell. Enjoy this breakfast treat. Eat Quaker pup rice or Quaker pup wheat. The sergeant and king were walking along the banks of the Klondike one mid-summer morning when suddenly the great dog began to bark and plunged into the woods at the side of the trail. The sergeant stopped and waited. Then he heard the cry of a frightened child. The sergeant followed King into the woods. He found the dog standing on the edge of a clearing and huddled close to the foot of a big pine on the far side. There was a little girl not more than six years old. Go away! Go away! What's the matter? King won't hurt you. He only wants to make friends. See, he's wagging his tail. Well, we'll find him for you. Don't cry. Who are you? I'm Sergeant Preston. What's your name? Judy. Judy what? Judy Far. And what's your daddy's name? Mike. Do you live in Dawson? Yes, but I don't want to go back there. Why? I'm scared. I ran away. Now why should you be afraid you're too big a girl for that? I'm scared of those men. What men? The ones who came to the cabin last night. They woke me up and I opened the door of my room and I saw them and they were hurting daddy. They were? And one of them started coming toward me and so I ran and I climbed out of the window and I kept on running into the woods and I hid. I'm scared to go back. No one's going to hurt you, Judy. King and I won't let them. Now come on, I'll carry you. We'll take you home. All right. That's a girl. Come on, King. He's a nice dog, isn't he? Very nice. I'm not afraid of him anymore. Of course not. You think you can show us where you live? Yes. Good. A few minutes walk brought them to the outskirts of Dawson and Judy pointed out the cabin where she lived with her father. It was near the river, the last in a row of ramshackled huts. The front door was half open. Well, they broke the chairs in the table. Daddy! Perhaps he's in the other room. Wait! He may be looking for you. I'll tell you what, Judy. We'll ask your neighbors where he's gone. There's nobody who lives around here except us. Well then, I'm going to take you to see a nice lady. I want my daddy. Wouldn't you like some breakfast? Yes. All right. Breakfast first and then we'll find your daddy afterwards. I'm awful hungry. You'll have a wonderful breakfast. The sergeant took Judy to Mark Carter's boarding house near the northwest mounted headquarters. And while the little girl was eating, he started making inquiries around town. One of his first stops was the Monte Carlo where he talked with the proprietor. Well, sure, sergeant. I know Mike Fire. I haven't seen him around this morning. No, but he was in here last night, though. What'd you look like? Well, he's about 30. Tall, dark hair, blue eyes. He weighs about 175. Nice guy, sergeant. He isn't in any trouble, is he? All I want to do is find him. Well, he lives alone. I know where he lives. He isn't there. What's he do for a living? Prospects. At least he used to. He hasn't done anything much for the last year and a half since his wife died. Does he have any enemies? Not that I know of. Why? Did something happen to him? There was some men came to his cabin last night. There was a fight. Well, he left here about midnight. See. What? Maybe it doesn't amount to anything. Anything you can tell me will help, Tex. Well, I just remembered. He was talking about his claim up north. What a wonder it would be when he got around to working it. Yes. We old timers didn't pay any attention, of course, because he doesn't own any claim up north. He doesn't. He can't. You know the law. If a claim isn't worked for a year, reverse the government. He'd have to restake and re-record it. You ever say what the claim was? No. When people ask him, he always laughs. Did they ask him last night? I can't remember. Somebody might have. We had a big crowd. All the men who went on that wild goose chase the blue cricket have been drifting back into town. Yes, we've been expecting troubles from them. I sure hope nothing has happened to Mike. So do I, as a sweet little daughter. Is there anything I can do? Just before anything you hear the headquarters, Munking. The sergeant and King return to the boarding house. Judy had been put to bed after her breakfast. And now she was sound asleep. She's in here, sergeant. I'll have to wake her up. Seems a shame. You haven't found her father anywhere. No, I don't think he's in town. But sergeant, how could a man go away and leave a little tight like this behind? It may not have had any choice, ma. You mean those men the child talks about? You think they've killed him? No, I don't think Mike Farwood would be any good to anyone if he were dead. Judy, Judy, wake up there. Hello, sergeant. Hello, King. Where's Daddy? He's probably gone on a trip. Without me? You won't mind staying with Mrs. Carter for a few days, would you? No, I like it here. Bless your child. Judy, do you remember where you used to live before you came to Dawson? With Mummy? Yes, when your Mummy was still with you. Well, there was a field I used to play in. And it was full of flowers all summer long. Yes. There was a white mountain, too. It looked awful close, but Daddy said it was a long way away. Is that where Daddy's gone? Perhaps. You go back to sleep now. All right. Sergeant, does what she said help at all? She could be talking about old baldy. The summit never loses its snow. That's a long way. Up to the north, and that's the right direction. But this is a job for you, King. I hope you can pick up the trail. The sergeant's next stop was the Far Cabin. There he picked up an old mucklock and gave it to King to smell. Find him, boy. Find him. Go on, fella. I'll follow. King led the way out of the cabin and down to the banks of the Klondike. There was a deep groove in the soft ground where a boat had been pulled up. There were a number of footprints around it. I see, King. I guess that settled it. There were at least two, maybe three men with him, and they left by boat. Big Bear Creek, Little Bear Creek, the valley at the foot of old baldy, the forest north of it. We have our work cut out for us this time, boy. A slender clue. A child's description of the place where she used to live. But it was at least a start and the northwest mounted asked for nothing more. In less than an hour, the sergeant had a canoe packed with provisions, and he and King were on their way, slipping down the broad expanse of the Yukon. Hardly got stuck at all this time of year, King. A possible lot of people saw the boat we're looking for. We'll stop at every cabin and landing we pass. At 11 o'clock that night, the sun had just slipped below the horizon. Four men were sitting around a campfire on the banks of the Yukon, miles to the north of Dawson. One of them was Mike Farr. Why don't you let me go back? You don't need me and my little girls there all alone. She won't know what's happening to me. She needs someone to take care of her. Now, look, Bert, here's a map I've drawn. It shows you just where my claim is. You can't miss it. Here, take the map. The man at Mike's right must have weighed 250 pounds. He was unshaven. His eyes were small and set close together. This was Batman. Coming with us, Farr. The third man, Silk Grogan, was smaller and more neatly dressed. His lips were thin and cruel. Don't tear that map up, Bert. Give it to me. Take it. The fourth man had long white hair and a full beard. He looked like a benevolent satigloss. But the deacon was the worst of the lot. If I'd known there was a kitten out of the room, I'd have taken care of her before I left him. She's probably yapping all over town. She won't say anything. She didn't even wake up. And I won't say anything when I get back. I promise you. Don't you want to come along with this? Don't you want to restake your claim? No. This is something I haven't told you before. I should have. I prosecuted the whole creek. And there's only one stretch of pater. That's what I get steak. Only 500 feet is any good. That's right, but it's yours. Only one claim for the three others. You'll make plenty, though. You'll get over $20 to the pen. Oh, please, Bat. Let me go back to Dawson. You're coming with us. No, I'm not. Mike jumped up and started to run for the woods. But with surprising speed, Bat was on his feet and after him. Just as Mike was nearing the cover of the trees, Bat left the ground in a flying tackle and brought him down. Mike's head hit a rock with a sickening thud. Oh, he hit his head. I guess we'll have no more trouble from him. Yeah. I think he's dead. We'll continue our story in just a moment. Man, oh man, here's a breakfast treat. It's got them all beat. It's Quaker Puffed Rice or Quaker Puffed Wheat. These famous, ready-to-serve breakfast serials are shot from gun. Yes, Quaker Puffed Wheat. And Quaker Puffed Rice are a choice premium wheat or rice grain shot from guns. They're giant size, king size, colossal. They're actually exploded up, up, up to eight times normal size. That makes them bigger and better tasting. Yes, that's what makes wheat or rice shot from guns so crisp and tender. They're shot through and through with bang-up, nut-like flavor too. Talk about swell tasting. Even more important, Quaker Puffed Wheat and Quaker Puffed Rice are nourishing. Yes, both delicious kinds furnish extra food values of restored natural grain amounts of vitamin B1, niacin and iron. They're quick and easy to fix for breakfast, lunch, supper or tween meal snack. Just pour them out from those big Quaker red and blue packages and milk or cream topped with your favorite fruit. And there you have it, a nutritious economical deluxe taste treat by both delicious kinds. With a variety, eat Quaker Puffed Wheat one time, Quaker Puffed Rice the next. Just remember, they're never sold in bags or bulk. To get the original crisp, fresh wheat or rice shot from guns, always look for the smiling Quaker Man on the front of each big red and blue package. He's your guarantee that you're getting the one and only delicious Quaker Puffed Rice and Quaker Puffed Wheat. Now to continue our story. Mike Farr trying to escape from the three men who were holding him prisoner was only knocked out when his head hit a rock after Bat's tackle. He recovered consciousness when Bat threw some water in his face and allowed himself to be dragged back to the campfire. Now he sat with his head bowed. A bandana held against the gash in his temple. The deacon rose to his feet. Hey me, you want to take a walk down to the bed? You want to come with me soon? Yeah, might as well. A few minutes later, they were out of sight of the camp. The deacon stopped. This is fine. I thought you wanted to see what was around the bed? I know what's around the bed. You still have that map for a drill? Yeah, can it over. Okay. I see now. Not bad. It should be easy to follow. No chance of missing it if he has the only claim on the creaky. Still, there's something to be said for Bat's point of view. It will be easy to find with far along. We don't need him, nevertheless. Have they been thinking, sir, about what? The claim. $20 to the pan. Runs into a lot of money. It could even split three ways. Of course, if they were only two of these, it'd be more. What's that? Simple arithmetic and common sense. Two ways and each of us gets more. But there's three of us. We don't need three people to work the claim. We couldn't count on Bat to do much work anyway. No. He'll just sit around and boss the job. I've been thinking. Now, there's no way we can get rid of him, deacon. Not now. He's too happy with a gun for my take. I wasn't suggesting anything like that. But what if we were to leave him here? Leave him? Go on on foot? Why, he'd get to the claim long before us. Let him do the walking, sir. Huh? You know where the canoe is drawn up? Yeah. Right by that big spruce. Yes, I'd pick this spot myself. The campfires downstream and higher up on the bank. You know, from here, a man could work his way back to the canoe, keeping to the cover of the trees. He could get to the canoe without being seen by anybody who was sitting near the fire. You mean, get in, shovel off him? Oh, no. No, it's still light and it won't get any darker. He could see me out in the river. You could stay close to the bank. You wouldn't even have to paddle let the current carry you down. You could pick me up at the point and we'd be on our way alone. All right. I'll go back and take a look. Maybe there's a chance of doing it without being spotted. There isn't. I won't try it if it don't look good to me. All right, go on. I'll be waiting for you at the point. Mike Farr was still sitting by the campfire with his head bowed. Bat was busy heating a can of beans. Suddenly, Mike heard a slight sound down by the water and looked up. He said nothing, but Bat noticed the expression on his face. What's the matter with you? Nothing. What about the... Hey, Silk, what are you doing with that boat? You're scunk. You're trying to get away with it. Don't move, Mr. Owls, will you? Get your hands up. I got them up. Now, Bat, don't be a fool. Think what you're doing. What were you doing with the canoe? I'll tell you if you'll only listen. I don't have to be told I saw. You were shoving it into the water. Of course I was. You admit it. There's nothing wrong with it. You're taking five minutes, ten at the most. Now, will you put down that gun? Okay. Hey, now what's the matter? Where's Far? I know I saw him a minute ago, but where is he now? He's gone. He made a break for it. You can't let him get away, Bat. If he and I had been talking about it, we'd beat him up and took him prisoner. You cracked him with your gun. He could put us all in jail. Not a chance. We'll get him. Which way did he go? Straight into the woods or along the shore to a Dawson. I'll take the woods. You take the shore. That's the way he went. All he wants to do is get back to town. But he might be hiding in the woods. We'd better split up. Okay, get going. Mike Far didn't realize how weak he was until he had covered a quarter of a mile in a dead run, picking his way through the trees and grew down to the water. He tripped over a root and fell heavily to the ground. For a moment he lay there, breathing heavily. Then he heard someone crashing through the underbrush, not far behind him. He jumped to his feet and ran down toward the water where there were fewer trees. He could see the river now. A hundred yards from shore he could see a canoe. He thought at first it was his captor's boat. Then he realized the man in the rear was wearing a uniform. It was a northwest-mounted policeman. He ran to the water's edge. Help! Help! The canoe turned toward him. The sound of pursuit was even closer now. Mike pulled off his boots frantically. Then his coat and shirt. He dove into the water and started swimming toward the canoe. It was Sergeant Preston in the canoe and he pulled the canoe toward the swimming man with long, powerful strokes. Before he had covered half the distance, another man appeared on shore. It was midnight, but still light enough to see that he had a gun in his hand. Officer! Good man! He's a crook! That raised his gun. Up that gun in the name of the law! That fired. Mike cried out. As the sergeant reached for his own gun, he disappeared beneath the surface of the water. The sergeant fired. That went down. The sergeant picked up his paddle and shot the canoe up to the spot where Mike had disappeared. In seconds, he was out of his coat and pulled off his boots. Then he tied the long painter of the canoe around his waist. King! That man on shore! Go! Guard him, boy! King was in the water at his master's command. The sergeant followed him, diving deep, trying to find Mike. King struck out toward shore. When he reached it, he ran toward the man who was lying on the ground. Still, his gun lying near his limp hand. King turned toward the canoe and watched it drifting down with a stream. There was no sign of his master. Moments passed. King could hardly control his anxiety. But he had been given an order. His post was here. His duty was to stand guard. Then at last, he saw two heads near the canoe. King barked his relief. He did not see bat slowly raise himself to one elbow. That's a monkey out there. Get them both. King did not turn back to bat until he already had the gun in his hand once more. But it was never raised. The great dog leaped. He grasped the rest of bat's gunhand in his jaws and shook it violently. Shook it until bat dropped the gun. Then King pulsed on the weapon. He carried it down to the river and dropped it in. Then he raced back to bat. And although he watched the sergeant slowly working the canoe to shore, he never relaxed his vigilance again. Bat was unable to make a move without King's menacing brawl warning him to lie quiet. A hundred feet down river, the sergeant pulled Mike up on the bank and went to work applying artificial respiration. In ten minutes, he was breathing. His strength began to return and he tried to rise. No, lie quiet. He would hit you, no? Not badly. Just grazed your temple, but I want to get advantage. Bad. Upstream, lying on the beach. He's wounded too hard. Yes, I had to get him before I could go after you. You're Mike Far, aren't you? I've been looking for you. Don't try to speak. Just nod your head and answer my questions. This man, Bat, was one of those who came to your cabin. And there were others. I thought there must be. Are they anywhere around here? Camp. It's not far that way. How many? One? Two? Two. Here with our prisoner. That's all I need to know. I'm going to rat this plunket around you. Don't try to move. You're going after the others. After I take a look at Bat, I'll be back. The sergeant checked his gun, picked up his first aid kit and ran up the shore to Bat, who was moaning faintly and clutching his side. King welcomed his master. Hello, boy. Good work. Swiftly, the sergeant bandaged the man's wound. When he had finished, he snapped a pair of manacles around his ankles. They feel like moving for a long time, but these will discourage you if you should try it. Come on, King. We haven't finished yet. There are two more of them. Quiet, boy. Quiet. We'll work our way upstream through the trees and we'll find a place for the camp. Let's go. The deacon had heard the shots fired upstream, but he had been unable to see what was happening. When silk did not appear, he made his way cautiously back to the campsite. He reached there just as silk was launching the canoe. There you are. Yeah. Come on. Get in. No, wait. What's happening? I tried to take the canoe before, but Bat caught me at it. I talked him out of doing anything. Said you twisted your ankle and I was just going to get you. What were those shots? I don't know. I made a break when Bat and I were talking. We went after him. Bat took the shore and I went straight into the woods. Of course, I didn't go more than 50 yards. I didn't care whether or far I got away or not. When I heard the shots, I could tell where Bat was way upstream. So I knew it was my chance to get the canoe. I went back. I've been checking. This year, we have all the equipment we need. And I loaded the rest of the food. No sense in leaving them anything, is there? No. Are you sure it was Bat who fired those shots? What else could it be? I wonder if he killed five. What's the difference? It would be a good thing to know to hold over him. If Far's dead, Bat shot him. We'll find out about it soon enough. Now, come on. Stop wasting time. He'll be coming back here. Here we go. As Silk launched the canoe, the sergeant and King were nearing the campsite. I could see a fairy, King. We'd better take it slow. How about it, boy? Any men around? Huh? I think you'd be growling a little if there were. Well, we'll soon see. A few more steps and the sergeant was certain there was no one around the fire. King growled and started for the water's edge. It was then the sergeant saw the canoe heading for mid-channel. He ran down to the water. King, stop or I'll shoot! Silk and the deacon heard the sergeant saw him and their answer was to open fire. Nothing. The sergeant dropped to the ground behind the cover of a rock. Then he started shooting at the waterline of the canoe. The bullets tore gaping holes in the fragile craft. He reloaded and fired again. By the time he had finished with his second volley, the canoe was settling in the water. Good. Turn the canoe over. It'll float upside down. Hang on to it. It'll turn over by itself, King. Let's see if, as they're hanging on, well, if we want to take any more prisoners, we'll have to rescue them. Back to the canoe, boy. Half an hour later, the deacon and Silk had been dragged out of the water and were drying their clothes around the same campfire that warmed Mike and the wounded bat. Mike had completely regained his strength and was in the best of spirits. I tell you, sergeant, you and King certainly know how to handle crooks. I'm not exactly satisfied, Mike. Not satisfied? Why not? Not yet, anyway. We can take Bat and Silk and the deacon back to Dawson and put them in jail. But what about you? Me? I haven't done anything. That's what I mean. You haven't done anything for the last year and a half. Oh. Well, I, uh... I have a little money still. I haven't felt like working since Mary Dine. Don't you think Judy's worth working for? It sure is. And how about making me a promise? Anything, sergeant. Very simple. All I want you to do is leave Judy with more cutter. I guess that would be a better place for her. Only for the time being, Mike. I want you to buy an outfit. Come back here, stake your claim again and start working it. How about it? Will you promise me that? I sure will. I'll amount to something from now on. You can depend on it. In just a moment, Sergeant Preston will give you a preview of Friday's adventure. Fellows and girls, the Yukon is a pretty rugged place to live. But look, whether you live in the Great Northwest or here at home, you need plenty of food energy. Yes, and if you were to ask Sergeant Preston, you can bet he'd agree that a good breakfast is a mighty important source of food energy. So here's good advice. See to it that you eat the kind of breakfast you need every morning. You'll want to include a big he-man's bowl full of Quakerpuff wheat or Quakerpuff rice with milk or cream and fruit. Try it. Wheat or rice shot from guns is crisp, tender, delicious. What's more, it furnishes added food values of restored natural grain amounts of vitamin B1, niacin and iron. Tomorrow, ask for Quakerpuff wheat or Quakerpuff rice in the big red and blue Quaker package. Listen, Friday, when Sergeant Preston and Yukon King meet the challenge of the Yukon in the case of the canyon holdup. Yes, it started with a holdup. When King and I headed for the deserted mine in the canyon, we knew that a murderer was leading the outlaw band. We found out later that Ann Conway was his prisoner. To attempt to capture her meant endangering her life. Be sure to hear this exciting adventure Friday. These radio dramas, a feature of the challenge of the Yukon Incorporated, are created and produced by George W. Trendo, directed by Fred Flower Day and edited by Fran Stryker. The part of Sergeant Preston is played by Paul Sutton. They are brought to you every Monday, Wednesday at the same time by Quakerpuff wheat and Quakerpuff rice. The breakfast cereal shot from guns. The improved way to feed your dog. The famous kennel bar dog feeding bowl. Now yours for just one dollar and four kennel ration labels. Compares in value with bowls worth up to three dollars and fifty cents. This heavy gauge plastic bowl is fifteen inches long. Serves water and food separately. It won't tip over and it's easy to clean. Get yours today. Your dealer has mailing coupon. Or send your dollar and four kennel ration labels to kennel ration Chicago 77. This is J. Michael wishing you good bye, good luck and good health from Quakerpuff wheat and Quakerpuff rice. So long. This is ABC, the American Broadcasting Company.