 The challenge of the Yukon. The Wonder Dog King, swiftest and strongest of Eskimo lead dogs, blazes the trail through storm and snow for Sergeant Preston as he meets the challenge of the Yukon. Sergeant Preston was typical of the small band of Northwest knotted police who preserved law and order in a new Northwest country with a greed for wealth and power led to frequent violence and bloodshed. But in spite of the odds against them, Sergeant Preston and his Wonder Dog King met that challenge and justice ruled triumphant. The two young people standing outside the cabin were holding hands as they looked into each other's faces oblivious of the penitent cold. Laura, honey, sometimes when I look at you, you're so beautiful. I can't even put it in words. Is that so, Mr. McDonald? Well, you'd better have words ready when you go inside. Why? Dad's in there. Good. And I'll speak to him right away. Paul, do you think you're sure? Sure. I'll just go in and say to him that I want to marry his daughter. Easy as that. I can hardly believe that you will. I will if he'll give his consent. Come on, I want to get this over with. Then close the door. Lock that hole a cold in. How are you, Mr. Lawson? Fair, just fair. Laura Child, one over from the fire. You'll never get warm standing there rubbing your hands together. Here, let me help you with the McDonald. Thank you, Paul. Mr. Lawson, I... What's on your mind? Well, I don't know exactly how to say it. Well, sir, I'd like to have your consent to marry your daughter. What? I know I'm not good enough for her, but I'll do everything I can to make her happy. So you want to marry my daughter, huh? Well, let me tell you, you ain't given me any great piece of news when you say you ain't good enough for her. You ain't. It's true. Every blame's word of it. McDonald, you're nothing but an empty-headed gambler with the worst luck I've ever seen. Dad, Paul promised me he'd give up gambling. He said... I don't care what he said. Words, just words. Don't amount to nothing more than the trouble it takes to say them. Wait a minute, Mr. Lawson. Now, you... Oh, nothing. You ain't marrying my daughter in ass finals. Won't ever bring her anything but heartache. I know you're kind. I haven't touched a card for a week. A whole week, huh? Now, ain't that fine? Dad. You heard what I said? Now, you get out of here, McDonald. Get out and don't bother coming back, neither. All right. Paul. Dad, listen to me, please. I've listened to all I'm going to. Go on, McDonald. Get out. All right. One gambler and the family's enough. But I tell you, he hasn't been near a gambling table for a week. He promised me. Promises? They'll all make promises. It's no good when gamblers in a man's blood promise her no promise. No, it's for the best. In time, you'll see it that way, too. No. No, I'll never see it that way. Never. In the palace cafe a short time later, a group of men were gathered at the poker table where Duke Mendoza, owner of the cafe, found a deck of cards through his fingers. Are you coming back for more punishment this hand, kid? My luck's gonna change. It's up to you. The men at the poker table were picking up their cards when Paul McDonald walked with them. Notting briefly to the players, he watched the game silently, and a deep frown creased his forehead. Your luck didn't change none that hand, kid. Hi there, McDonald. Ain't seen you around lately. I've been busy. Deal me in this hand, Duke. I thought you'd reform me. You know better. Just come from the cabin? Yeah. The old man asking about me? No. The playing resumed. As the stakes modded, each player's look of concentration deepened. Only Duke Mendoza, casual, debonair, noticed the scarlet-coated policeman walked quietly to the table. With a look of amusement, the cafe owner nodded a greeting to the money and went on playing. Sergeant Preston! Hello, boys. Hello, Sergeant. How's business, Duke? So-so, Sergeant. How's your business? Very quiet. I'm making the rounds of the town. Matter of fact, I might need some help. Think you could spare a few minutes, Paul? Why, yeah. Sure, Sergeant. Be right with you. Good. See you later, Duke. So long, Sergeant. So long. All right, King old boy. I didn't expect to see you back in town so soon, Sergeant. I picked up some mail in Dawson, thought I'd bring it through. You don't really need any help, do you? I know why you asked me to make the rounds with you, Sergeant. Well, it's no concern of mine, Paul. Just a few days ago, you told me that you were through with gambling. I've heard all about this thing called luck. Maybe it exists, maybe it doesn't. If it does, you don't have it. Last time I was talking to you, you'd just gotten out from under a lot of gambling debts. Yeah. As I said, it's no concern of mine. But it just occurred to me that you'd think a few minutes about the promise you made to Laura. You might want to keep it. The mounting and Paul McDonald with the Great Malamute King walked through the town. A half hour passed, and as the lights spilling through the windows of the settlement went out, the two men parted company, each of them going in opposite directions. Paul McDonald walked toward his hotel. A heavy snow had just begun to fall, filled the pockets his tracks made in the blacketed earth. Then, hesitating, he stood still for a moment. Turning suddenly, he retraced his steps. A short time later in the palace cafe, Duke Mendoza stood before the safe in his office. Left. Who's that? Who's there? Oh, so it's you. What are you... Down that night, you fool. What do you think you're gonna... You'll never get away with this? Sergeant Preston walked toward the back door, searched from the shadows, and walked past the mountain. It wasn't until he opened the door of the office and looked inside that the policeman became suspicious of the man already disappearing among the row of buildings. Come on, King. You there! Stop! After me, Sergeant. Paul. You left the door of Mendoza's office open. I guess you know. Well? You gonna put me under arrest? You? Yeah, me. I killed him. What are you waiting for, Sergeant? We're going back to his office. Come on. What do you expect to find? Rummy didn't do that safe. This is what you call an investigation. Why don't we get this over with? I'm ready to go over to the jail. You can stop this investigation. Locked. I'll have to. Paul's receipts. You certainly kept the record of everything. Records. I go through all this. You've got everything you need. I told you I did it. What more do you want? I don't know why you're doing this, Paul. But I'm gonna find out. I don't know what you're talking about. This investigation is going to be continued. I'm going to deputize several men, whose duty it will be to round up every man who was in this café during the half hour before it closed. Why? You'll soon see why. And when they get here, you're going to keep your mouth shut if I have to knock you senseless to make sure that you do. I told you I'd kill him. You're a bad poker player, but as a liar, you're worse. Now, come on. You've got a lot to do and not much time you wish to do it. Several hours passed, and still the lamp and Duke Mendoza's office burned. Sergeant Preston and Paul McDonald waited while a small room filled with a miscellaneous group of men. Finally, the door opened and Dan Thorpe walked in, followed by Sam Lawson, who stood waiting impatiently as he called over his shoulder. This is no place for a lady. Now, if you've found a way for us, wait outside. There's no use arguing. The deputy told you it was just a routine questioning for Dan. The deputy told me he was a member of the law and order commission. I should be here, but he didn't... It's no use, Dan. I found it when I... If the others are looking at us, I... Sergeant Preston and Paul... What's this routine questioning about? You'll find out in just a moment. Mr. Lawson, will you close that door? Sure, Sergeant. Laura, will you wait out in the sand? There's a heavy snowfall. Perhaps it'll be just as well as she remained here. Well... Paul, is there something wrong? Sit down, please, Mr. Lawson. Now, let's get this over with. What routine questions are there? What about? About Duke Mendoza's murder. Murder? Mendoza, when? Well, I saw him just a while ago. Sergeant, I... Where, Paul? You men were among the last to leave the cafe. It's very possible that one of you may have slipped back to his office before closing time waiting for him. Yeah, I guess that could have been done. When a murderer is committing a crime, if it's premeditated, he gives a lot of thought to setting up a perfect crime. He goes over the scene to make sure he left no telltale trace. What's he getting at? But no matter how certain he may be, there's always something he overlooked. Sometimes it may be very small things. For instance, Duke Mendoza put up a struggle for his life. He struggled with a man who killed him. That's why, in a case like this, a button, a piece of material caught in the hands of the victim will invariably point to his murder. I'm going to examine the coat each of you is wearing. Mr. Lawson, you weren't in the cafe. Have the men walk in single file in front of this desk. All right, Sergeant. Here, Dan, over this way. I can wait. I'm not in any hurry. Come on, I've no time to waste. Dan? I said I'll wait. I said you'll come through. Dan, my boy, why don't you... Shut up! I know what I'm doing. Dave! Are you coming over by that lamp? Well, before I do, I'll... Dan, let go of me! All right, Molly, go on and pull your gun. Before you ever hit me, you'll kill my sister. If any of the others interfere, I've got my gun. I can't believe it. Stay back, Paul. I thought you were covering for him. What are you talking about? Paul tried to cover for you. He assumed the guilt for Mendoza's murder. Why didn't you believe him? Why all this routine investigation? Because I went to that safe. There were several IOUs scattered out on the floor. Oh, that's so. I knew Paul hadn't played poker for a week. Also, when he left the table, he had cash on him, and you didn't have. Mendoza kept a duplicate of everything in that desk of his. The amount of your IOU was entered in his ledger with the date. What? The IOU of which there was no original safe. That's why I suspected for whom Paul was covering. All right. So I wasn't over my head. I thought I'd clean off the slate. By murdering the man who was carrying your debts on the red side of his books. Yeah, and if you hadn't come along when you did, I'd have gotten away with it. I... I can't believe it. Your mother... Also, I knew Paul McDonnell had information no one else had. That you were Laura Lawson's stepbrother. Oh, Loubert. Well, what about it, Manny? That's the last case you'll ever figure out. I'm heading for the door right now. You're walking with me, Laura, right in front of me. No. The first man that moves gets his dick blown off. Anybody tries to get me, they'll get her first. You're powered. You're yellow. Shoot, Sergeant, shoot. King. At him, fella. Oh! I have muscle. You'll pull me off, fellas. Get away from me. Get down, you. Oh! Good work, King. Pull him off, you hear? Pull him off of me. Down, King. All right. Come on your feet, Dan. Put those cups on him, will you, Paul? Yes. McDonnell, I'm grateful to you for what you tried to do. I know it was because of Laura. I'm sorry, Mr. Lawson, to have forced the show down this way. Well, I couldn't let Dan hang, whom I knew to be innocent. I understand that you couldn't, Sergeant. If only I'd known. I'm sorry, Laura. Sorry, Paul. Well, you did everything that you could. I suppose it was Dan's coat that gave him away. Otherwise, he would have allowed you to suffer for his actions. His coat, Miss Lawson? There's nothing wrong with Dan's coat? No, no, no. His coat confused him so that he wasn't sure whether his coat had been torn or not. It was his conscience that betrayed him, so it was a trick. You might call it that. Well, I guess a man makes mistakes in judgment. I hope you'll forgive me, Paul, or forget it, Mr. Lawson. No, darling. We never will. Yes, fellow. Thanks to your help, the case is closed. These copyrighted dramas originate in the studios of WXYZ Detroit, and all characters, names, places, and incidents used are fictitious. They are sent to you each week at the same time and reach you from our transcription studios.