 The challenge of the Yukon. It's Yukon King, the swiftest and strongest lead dog of the Northwest. Blazing the trail for Sergeant Preston of the Northwest Mounted Police in his relentless pursuit of lawbreakers. On King! On you, 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. Sergeant Preston was on his way back to Dawson after making a short patrol of the Klondike River District. He was driving his team along the trail bordering Half Moon Creek when he sighted a small boy running toward him in the distance. As the boy drew closer, he recognized him as little Joey Clayton, the grandson of a rich old miner named Cal Dorset. Sergeant Preston! Looking for you, Husky! Come on! Joey, what's wrong? I'm afraid he's dying. What happened? He killed over a year of sudden. I think it's a heart attack. I was running to get help from the neighbors. What about the couple who worked for your grandfather, Mr. and Mrs. Winfield? They weren't to tell on this story. I was all alone with them. All right, Joey, get on this lead. All right, Sergeant. Un-ting! And you, Husky! A few minutes later, the Sergeant halted his team in front of Cal Dorset's big two-story log house. Looking for you, Husky. Come on, come on, Joey. As the Sergeant entered the house with Joey at his side, he saw the old man lying on the floor, his face ledden-hewed and beaded with perspiration. Grandpa, I brought Sergeant Preston. Where's his bedroom, Joey? I'll carry him there. No use, Sergeant. I reckon I'm done for. Don't give up, Cal. Listen to me, both of you. Never made a will. But Joey's my only relative, so the mind will go to him. Everything to Joey. Grandpa, please. Please don't die. Don't cry, Joey. But watch out for him, Sergeant. I... Grandpa. Grandpa! Yes, Joey. Don't be afraid, son. Your grandfather's dead. The following day, three men sat lounging around a cabin in Dawson City. One of them, whose name was Vince Clayton, was reading the latest issue of the Klondike nugget. His partners, Bud Mitchell and Scar Foley, were playing a game of cards. Suddenly, Vince exclaimed in surprise... Hey, you two, listen to this. Listen to what? The story in the nugget. Joey Clayton, a nine-year-old boy, will soon become the owner of the richest claims on Half Moon Creek. He's due to inherit the claim as the only surviving relative of his grandfather, Calvin Dorsett, who succumbed yesterday to a heart attack. Well, what about it? Well, that kid Joey Clayton is my brother's son. Your son? Well, I'll be door-gone. I never knew Burt had a kid. Sure, Burt and his wife split up three or four years ago, back in the States. His wife took the kid and went to live with old man Dorsett. Here, let me read you the rest of the story. Joey's mother died last year in the whereabouts of his father Burt Clayton as unknown. It is reported that Mr. and Mrs. Clyde Windfield may be appointed the boy's guardian. Hey, that'll be a nice deal for them. I'll tell the world it will. As the kid's guardian, they'll have control of the mind until Joey gets to be 21. Yeah, it's too bad Burt got shot in that holdup we pulled last month. He was still alive. He could claim custody of the kid and get control of the mind for himself. That's just what I was thinking. And that's not all I'm thinking. What do you mean? Look, nobody except us knows that Burt Clayton is dead. So? Suppose I were to show up and claim that I'm Burt Clayton. Yeah, but you're not Burt Clayton. You're his brother, Vince. Sure I'm his brother. Don't be stupid, Scar. The point is nobody but us knows that. So what's to keep me from passing myself off as Burt? What about the kid? Not him. He was only five or six years old the last time he laid eyes on us. It's not likely he remembers his face very clearly. Besides, Burt and I looked a lot alike. Yeah, it's a fact you did. People used to get you mixed up sometimes. What's more, I kept Burt's personal papers. And I have that ring that his wife gave me. It has his name and her name engraved inside of it. My thunder, I believe you've got something there. You just wait and see. That evening, Sergeant Preston drove his team out to Half Moon Creek to see Joey and the middle-aged couple who were taking care of him. Mrs. Winfield opened the door. Sergeant Preston. Hello, Mrs. Winfield. Come on in. You too, King. Joey and my husband were just having a game of chackers. Sergeant Preston and King. Well, howdy, Sergeant. Hello, Clyde. Hello, Joey. Gosh, I'm glad you and King came to visit us. Good ol' King. Joey's sure does think he heaper that dog. Well, I'd say the feeling was mutual. How about that, King? Take off your park and sit down, Sergeant. Well, thanks, but I can't stay long. I had a talk with Judge Tyler this afternoon. He's a judge who'll preside over the settlement of Caldorce at the state. I didn't. Did he say anything about what's going to happen to Joey? Yes, he said if Joey's willing and if I'll vouch for your good character, maybe to say I will. He'll appoint you and Mrs. Winfield as Joey's guardian. You mean Mr. and Mrs. Winfield can be just like my mother and dad? That's about it, Joey, if it suits you. Oh, God, that'll suit me fine. Oh, I'm glad to hear you say that, Joey. I've always wanted a boy of my own, and now it looks like I'm going to have one. Someone's at the door. I'll go see who it is. Wonderful. Joey. Joey, I reckon you are Joey, aren't you? Yes, Herbert. Gully, you've grown so big, I hardly know you. Who is it, Joey? I don't know. You let me come inside into the light and see if you don't recognize me. Good evening. Good evening. I'll tell you who I am just a moment. That is, if Joey doesn't tell you first, I'm hoping he'll remember me. I think I've seen you somewhere. Now you take a good look, Joey. Still can't place me, huh? Well, son, I'll tell you who I am. I'm your dad. What? You mean you're Bert Clayton? Yes, that's what I mean. How about that, Joey? Does this man look like your pa? Yes, he does. At first I couldn't place him, but now I'm beginning to remember. Well, in that case, I reckon you must be telling the truth, mister. My name's Clyde Winfield. I'm glad to know you Winfield. Take off your parker. Take off your parker and come on over by the fireplace. Certainly. I'd like to have you meet the others. Have you heard what's been said? I don't need to tell you this yet as Joey's pa. Bert Clayton, this is my wife. How do you do, mister Clayton? This is Sergeant Preston of the Northwest Mounted. He's an old friend of ours and Joey's. How do you say I think so? Well, I reckon we might as well sit down and take the weight off our feet. Thank you. I suppose you realize that the courts will expect you to prove that you're Bert Clayton. Well, naturally, and I'm prepared to prove it. Here. Take a look at this ring. Joey's mother gave me that ring on our first wedding anniversary. Read what's engraved inside it. Two birds from his loving wife, Elsie, 1890. And also, I have some personal papers here that should establish my identity. Hmm. Seems to be authentic. Do you mind if I check a little further? What do you mean? Do you know if your mother had a photograph of your father? Oh, yes, sir. Once I saw a picture of them that was taken on their wedding day. I think it's in mother's trunk. Would you get it, please? Well, now, see here, Preston, by thunder, you're actin' as though you think I'm a fake. Not at all. I'm just doing what the court will do later on. Of course, if you're afraid of answering these... Who's afraid? You go ahead and get that picture, Joey. We'll soon set this mountain straight. Yes, sir. A few minutes later, Joey returned with a photograph when everybody had examined it. Clyde Winfield remarked, you've aged a bit, but the picture does look like you're right. What do you think, Flora? Yes, Clyde. I reckon this gentleman must be Bert Clayton just like he says he is. Now, what have you got to say for yourself, Preston? Apparently, you'll have no difficulty in proving your identity to the court. For Joey's sake, I hope everything works out for the past. A week later at the court proceedings for the settlement of Calvin Dorsett's estate, Vince Clayton succeeded in passing himself off as Joey's father, and the boy was officially turned over to his care. Vince immediately moved his belongings out to the mine. That evening, after supper, he remarked to Mrs. Winfield... Well, Mrs. Winfield, that was a mighty, satisfying meal. I'm glad you enjoyed it, Mr. Clayton. I certainly did, but I'm afraid if the last meal you'll be cooking for Joey and me. What? What do you mean? I'm afraid I'll have to dispense with the services of you and your husband. You mean your fireness? You want to put it that way? Yes. In lieu of notice, you'll receive two weeks' pay. But, but, Dad, I don't want them to go. I like them. Never mind arguing, son. I know what's best. But you can't fire them. Grandpa left this house to me in the mine, too. I can keep them working here if I want to. Now, don't talk back to me, young fella. I'm your father, and until you're 21, I'm giving the orders around here. So keep your mouth shut until you're spoken to. As for you two, you can pack your bags The following day, Vince paid a visit to his partners, Bud Mitchell and Scar Foley. The two men looked up as he entered the cabin. Well, well, look who's here. Rich boys, Daddy. How does it feel to be boss of a rich gold mine? It feels fine, boys. Mighty fine. What I want to know is where do we cut in on the deal? And that's what I came here to talk to you about. Look, I just fired the couple who used to work for old man Dorset. You two are going to take their places. What's the idea? If the applied wind field was working the mine, it would be mighty risky to pull anything crooked. Any time the cork fell like checking up on me, he could testify just how much gold had been taken out of that mine. If some of it were missing, I'd be in the soup. Yeah, you sure work. But with the wind field gone, and you two taking their places, it'll be smooth sailing. About one-tenth of the gold we get out of the mine will show up in the kid's bank balance. The rest will go to us. Savvy? In the weeks that followed, life became a virtual nightmare for young Joey Clayton. Not only did he miss his grandfather and the kindly mothering of Mrs. Windfield, but Vince Clayton kept him a virtual prisoner in the house and forced him to perform many of the hard menial chores that were supposed to be the job of the new cook, Scar Foley. The slightest infraction of discipline was swiftly and sternly punished. One day, Vincent Spud came into the house and found an argument going on between Scar and Joey. I wonder if you any deletions right I ever laid that laid-eye front. Get up out of that chair and get busy. Sounds like the first line again. What's going on here? What's going on? That's the whole trouble. I tell this kid of yours to wash the dishes and peel me some potatoes. Well, I go chop some firewood. I come back and I find he ain't even started peeling this spud yet. He said he's curled up in this chair asleep. Oh, so you've been loafing again, huh, Joey? No, sir, I haven't been loafing. Don't contradict me, you young scamp. At least I haven't. I've been working all morning. I just sat down in this chair to rest a minute. And I fell asleep. Fell asleep. You get plenty of time to sleep at night. Maybe what you need is a good thrash. God, don't lick me. I haven't done anything wrong. I'll bet if the judge knew how me... Shut up! I wasn't gonna lick you, but now that you're getting so smart, you're going to get just what you deserve. No, please, Dad. I'll work harder. Come here. I'll teach you not to talk back to me. Hey, someone took the door. Go see who it is, Spud, while I attend to this brat. Sure thing, boss. Well, what can I do for you, Monty? I came to visit Joey Clayton. But him and his dad are busy right now. Yes, so I hear. Do you mind if I step inside? Well, I guess not. As the sergeant entered the room, Vince Clayton left off spanking Joey and looked up with a scowl of surprise. That's right. Can I ask what the trouble is? It happens that I'm teaching this son of mine some manners, not that it's any business of yours. It's the business of the police anytime a child is mistreated. Who says I'm mistreating him? Has it occurred to you that a child can be punished without beating him black and blue? Look, Preston, keep your nose out of this. I'm Joey's father. And by thunder, if you don't like the way I'm treating him, you can clear out. You know, Clayton, if someone were to manhandle you a bit, it might chattel you down considerably. You talk mighty tough, don't you? With that uniform, the backyard. I'll be glad to remove my tunic anytime you feel the uniform is getting in your way for a moment fence-clared at the Monty. And then his glance fell away sullenly. All right, Joey. Go on up to your room. Just a minute, Joey. What was this trouble all about? Dad said I was loafing because I fell asleep in the chair. But I didn't mean to. I've been working around the house all morning. Kid's lazy, I'll tell you. Now if you're through asking him questions, I'll repeat my order. Go on up to your room, Joey. Anything else you'd like to know, Preston? What happened to Mr. and Mrs. Winfield? They're no longer employed here. Why not? Because I didn't like the way they worked. So you replaced them with these two men? Well, what if I did? Friends of yours? Not necessarily. I knew they were looking for jobs, so I hired them, that's all. What's your name, Mr. Mitchell. Spud Mitchell. And what's yours? My name's Foley. And with a scar like yours? The police record? What? Police record? No, no, of course not. I'd never been in trouble with the law. What'd you do for a living before you came here? I used to be a ship's cook. I just came to you kind of about a month ago. Oh. All right, Clayton, I'll be on my way. But for now on, you'd better watch your step. The law can intervene to protect Joey and his inheritance. Any time there's reason to believe that you are not a fit parent. Thanks for the advice. Is that all? That's all. For now? I reckon you can find your way out. Come along. Whew, man alive. And now he was getting too snoopy for comfort. Yeah, especially about that scar. Are you going to ditch me just when we've got a nice soft deal here? I'll ditch you any time I feel like it. The only safe way is for you to clear out while you still got the chance. Then I'll claim I didn't know anything about your past record. The person won't be able to prove different. All right, all right. What about my share of the goal that's already been mined? You'll get what's coming to you. Don't you worry about that. Just hurry up and get your gear together. Scar Foley went to his room and packed up his belongings. Before leaving, he slipped a loaded revolver into the pocket of his parka. Then he went outside and hitched up a team of huskies. When he returned to the house, Vince Clayton and Spud were waiting for him. Well, are you all ready to hit the trail? Yeah, I sure am. All right, reach for it. What's the idea of pulling a gun on us? The idea is that you're not getting rid of me quite so cheap as you thought. Meaning what? Meaning that when I leave here, I'm taking every ounce of gold you've got in this house. Don't think I won't be back for more later. Why, you dirty double-crossing skunk. If you think I'm going to let you... You'll kick through all right any time I feel like dropping around. Because if you don't, I'll see to it that the Mounties find out just what kind of a game you're pulling here. I wonder if you ever show your face around here. Shut up and get out of that chair. You two, Spud. Now start marching to the back room and open up the safe. Vince Clayton's face was livid with Fury as he obeyed Scar's order. A few moments later, the safe had been opened. Inside were a number of moose-hide pokes heavily loaded with gold. All right, haul out those pokes and carry them over to the back door. And I'm going to fix you too so you can't follow me for a while. Without saying a word, Vince reached into the safe and took one of the heavy pokes in each hand. Then he stood up and pretended that he was going to walk past Scar toward the door. But suddenly he turned and hurled the right hand poke at Scar's head. The blow caught Scar completely by surprise. Before he could recover, Vince had grabbed his gun hand and Spud had jumped on him from the other side. Scar fought desperately against their combined attacks. But Vince finally arrested his gun away from him and brought the butt smashing down on Scar's head. Keeping quiet for a while, that dirty rat. You're supposed to kid her. Oh, I doubt it. When I looked in a few minutes ago, he was fast asleep. What are we going to do with Scar here? We'll have to get rid of him permanently. You mean kill him? What else can we do? You don't think we can trust him after what happened, do you? He'd squeal to the mountains for sure. Yeah, guess you're right. How are we handling him? For the time being, we'll time up and gag him. We can hide him in the mineshaft till it gets dark. And sometime tonight we'll take him a good long ways from here and finish him off. Yeah, good idea. When Sergeant Preston returned to Mounted Police headquarters in Dawson City, he went to see Inspector Conrad. I'd like to talk to you about Joey Clayton, sir. Go ahead, Sergeant. What's on your mind? Well, in the first place, I'm not sure that Bert Clayton's a fit parent for him. What do you mean? I stopped him to see Joey while I was out on the creeks. Clayton was beating him. Well, boys do have to be punished sometimes. Yes, sir, but not as brutally as Clayton was doing it. Well, it's hard to pass judgment on a situation like that, Sergeant. I realize that, sir, but that's not the only thing that makes me wonder about Clayton. What do you mean? The windfields were a good, hard-working couple, and Mrs. Windfield was the second mother to Joey. Yet Clayton has seen fit to fire them and replace them with two tough-looking friends of his. Did he say why? Said he didn't like the way the windfields worked. This was obviously an excuse. Exactly what are you driving at, Sergeant? I'm not quite sure myself, sir, but I have a feeling that Clayton may be up to something crooked. Such as? Well, as Joey's father, he has control of the gold mine until Joey's 21. Now that the windfields are out of the picture, there's nothing to prevent him from robbing Joey systematically. I see what you mean. Perhaps we'd better look into the situation. Well, we're outed, sir. I think we should check on one of the two men Clayton hired. Why, do you have some reason to suspect him? He has a peculiar V-shaped scar on his left cheek. I'm almost certain I've read a description of a scar like that on some police handle. A V-shaped scar on his left cheek? Yes, that does sound convenient. Wait a minute while I look in the files. The inspector frowned thoughtfully as he leafed through the files. Finally, he found what he was looking for. You're right, Sergeant. Found something, sir? Yes. A man with a scar like that is wanted for attempted murder. He shot a man in a roadhouse brawl last February down near Selkirk. What's his name? His identity is unknown. What about his description? Five, ten, weighed about 180. Swarthly complexion, going bald. That's the man all right. Name's Foley. When I questioned him, he claimed he just arrived in the territory about a month ago. Go out and bring him in, Sergeant. Clayton is playing some crooked game. Perhaps we can get some information out of Foley. Right, sir. Come along, kid. It was not yet dusk when Sergeant Preston approached the log house on Half Moon Creek. Vince Clayton and Spud Mitchell were talking together in the front room. Joey was still asleep upstairs. At the sound of the sergeant's team, Spud looked out the window. Who is it, Spud? Hey, hey, it's that Mountie again. Just as I figured. He's probably coming back to arrest Scar. What are you going to tell him? Don't worry. I know just what I'm going to say. You better go out to the mine tunnel and make sure that Scar hasn't worked himself loose. It might be a bit hard to explain if he were to show up all of a sudden. Good idea. I'll slip out in the back way. Back again, Preston? Yes. I've come to arrest Foley. Arrest Foley? What for? Attempted murder. Foley Mackerel. So that's why he cleared out in such a hurry. What do you mean? Well, a little while after you left, he packed up his gear and told me he was quitting. I reckon you must have scared him by noticing that Scar on his face. I'd make sure to say that. Well, I... I don't know. You said you'd read a description of a man with a scar like that, so I... So I figured that's how you recognized him. Do you notice which way he headed when he left here? I sure did. He was heading north, probably trying to make it to the border. Any of his clothing still here? I... I... I think he left an old shirt out in the kitchen. Why? He'll get my dog here. He's sent. He's sent? You mean you're going to track him? That's right. Oh, I... Well, it's a good idea, but... Look, stop to think of it. He may have taken that shirt with him. I'll go see if it's there. Perhaps I'd better go with him. There's no need of that, Captain. Just the same, I'll go with him. Who's yourself? When they got to the kitchen, the sergeant found the shirt hanging on the wall. Here, boy. Got the scent? Well, go outside and circle until King picks up his trail. With a tense look on his face, Clayton followed the sergeant out of the house. King picked up the scent almost immediately, leading away from the back door. With an eager bark, he headed straight for the mine and then paused at the moth of the mine tunnel to wait for his master. So fully headed north, Clayton. That's right. By way of the mine shaft. I'll tell you, he headed north. I saw him with my own eyes. Look, your dog's got a false scent. That's all. Sorry, but King doesn't make mistakes. If you want to waste your time, go ahead, search the mine. That's what I intend to do. Just to be on the safe side, you're coming with me with your hands in the air. Now, wait a minute. Pressing your head... Get moving, Clayton, in case you don't know what it's a criminal offence to hide a person who's wanted by the law. Get moving. Before entering the mine, sergeant pressed and ordered Clayton to light a lantern which was hanging near the entrance. Then holding the lantern and forcing Clayton to walk in front of him, he entered the mine tunnel. Suddenly, King's bark announced that he had found his quarry. A moment later, the rays of the lantern disclosed the figure of Scar Fully lying on the ground bound in gang. Good work, boy. Well, Clayton, it looks as though Fully didn't get very far north after all. Very funny. Yes, we'll have a good laugh over it later. In the meantime, you may start untying him. As Clayton began untying Scar, the sergeant hung the lantern on a spike projecting from one of the timbers. Suddenly, a voice rang out from the darkness. Grab that gun, press it and reach. Don't let that dog make any false moves, either. I sure mean to put a bullet in him. That ain't King. I was wondering what had happened to your spud. Yeah, when I heard you guys outside the tunnel, I stepped down that cross-cutting head. Good thing you did. Pressing here was just about to clear the whole game for us. Looks to me like he's cleared it already. Not if we get rid of him, he hasn't. Get rid of him? Oh, no, not me, Clayton. I'll go along with you on most of the deals you figure out. But I sure don't want no part of killing the Mounties. Shut up and listen. I got it all figured out. We'll kill Pressing and then shoot Scar here with Pressing's gun. Huh? I don't sammy. Look, Pressing came here to arrest Scar. All right. We claim Scar ran into the mine tunnel. Pressing chased him and they shot it out. Pressing shot Scar, but before he died, Scar plugged the Mountie. Now do you understand? Yeah, I sure do. My thunderbench, you've really got brains. Sad news? All right. No sense wasting any time about it. You can let Pressing have it right now. It'll be a pleasure. Spud's back was turned to the mouth of the tunnel. As the crook raised his gun to shoot, Sergeant Preston glanced over his shoulder and gave a startled cry. Joey, go back. Hey, what the... King leaped at the crook in the split second that he turned. His gun went off, but the bullet plowed harmlessly into the wall as he toppled backward under the great dog's attack. Meanwhile, Preston had already turned to deal with Vince Clayton. That trick won't save you, Pressing. Maybe this will. Well, let's get you. But his face contorted with rage, Vince recovered and rushed back at Preston, only to run into a series of smashing whites and lambs. Not as easy as manhandling a trail, is it, Clayton? This will pay you back for the way you treated Joey. As the Mounties' final blow sent Vince sprawling to the grounds, Spud was already whining for help. Get this dog off it, Pressing! You'll stay right where you are until I pick up your gun. All right, King, I have it. Put him up now, boy. On your feet, Mitchell. You too, Clayton. You're both under arrest in the name of the crown. A few moments later, as Vince Clayton finished untying Scar, Joey came running into the tunnel. Sergeant Preston, what happened? I'll tell you all about it later, Joey. Right now, I want to hear what Foley has to say for himself. I'll talk all right and talk plenty. The first place this rat Clayton isn't really the kid's father. Oh, that's what I said. And who is he? He's Burt Clayton's brother, Vince. Shut up, Scar. Burt got killed in a hole up a couple of months ago. Vince took his ring and his personal papers and used them to pass himself off as a kid's father. No wonder he treated me so mean all the time. Well, Joey, you don't have to worry about that anymore. I have an idea the court will appoint Mr. and Mrs. Winfield as your new guardians. Oh, golly. That'll be wonderful. In the meantime, these three will go to jail. As far as we're concerned, Joey, this case is closed. We now take you to Northwest Mounted Police Headquarters in Dawsonon. Reporting for duty, Inspector. This may be a tough assignment, Sergeant. Really, sir? Yes. I have a letter here from a man named Charlie Breen in Grand Ledge. He's confessed to holding up the express office in Forty Mile. And he wants to surrender and show us where the goal is cashed. Why do you write a letter? Why didn't he come here if he wants to give himself up? He's sick, Sergeant. He thinks he's going to die. You want me to go to Grand Ledge, sir? Yes, but I haven't finished. The night after Breen wrote this letter, he disappeared. Where or how, no one knows. Sergeant, your job is to find him. A man who is about to die, a man who wants to clear his conscience, has suddenly disappeared. Where and why? Who else knows about the cash of stolen gold? What dangers lie ahead for the Sergeant and King as they hit the trail in search of the dying man? Be sure to listen to this next exciting adventure, the gold behind the waterfall. 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. Sergeant Preston, I hear you have some good news. Yes, I do have some good news for all our listeners. Beginning with our next Mondays broadcast, this program will be brought to you every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, each week over these stations at the same time. We have some wonderful new exciting adventures for you. Be sure to listen. This is Fred Foy, wishing you good bye and good luck until Monday.