 Now, as gunshots echo across the windswept snow-covered reaches of the wild northwest, Quakerpuff wheat and Quakerpuff rice, the breakfast cereal shot from gun, present 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 mountain police in his relentless pursuit of lawbreakers. On King, on your feet! Gold, gold discovered in Yukon, a stampede to the Klondike 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 wonder dog Yukon King as they meet the challenge of the Yukon. Let's go! Yes, you're raring to go for a breakfast that's sparked with delicious Quakerpuff wheat or Quakerpuff rice. Your appetite races for a heaping bowlful of those king-sized kernels of premium rice or wheat, topped with milk or cream and fruit. Mmm, just take a luscious mouthful, taste the nut-like flavor, the special Christmas that's yours only in Quakerpuff rice and Quakerpuff wheat because they're shot from guns. Taste them tomorrow morning, sure. Frankie Warren was an orphan lad whose right leg had been crippled in a Klondike mine explosion. In spite of his misfortune, he remained cheerful and plucky, and as soon as he was able to get around on crutches, he began earning his livelihood by repairing dog sleds and harness for travelers on the Yukon Trail. One day, two sourdoughs stopped at the weather-beaten cabin which Frankie had taken over. Frankie hobbled out to greet them. Hello there. Hello there, young fella. Need any repairs on your sled or your harness? If you do, you've come to the right place. Oh, we just stopped to get rid of one of our dogs. Get rid of them? Yeah, he's in bad shape. Too weak to work on the traces any longer, so there's no use wasting any more food on him. Which dog do you mean? The right wheeler. Can't you tell just by looking at him? The dog which the stranger had pointed out was a big, sorrowful-looking St. Bernard. His sides were gaunt, and his once majestic head now lolled weakly from his shoulders. I'll go and take it off the traces. What's the matter with him? He's sick, I guess. Gone lame, too. Pads look like raw beef steak. How long have you had him? About a month or so. Brought him down on the Dye Beach, fresh off the boat. 400 bucks he cost us. I got him on harness, Curran. Are you going to take care of him? You want me to do it? No, I'll do it. St. Bernard, freed from the traces, ventured a few shaky steps toward the cabin. But his legs soon gave way, and he collapsed helplessly to the ground. Oh, look at the lousy mutt. Hey, don't kick him! I gotta move him some way. Why don't you shoot him right here and be done with it? What? I'm not a team. It stirs him up too much to see a dog killed. Well, you're not going to shoot him. What do you think I'm going to do? Can't pull his weight any longer? Well, if you don't want him any more, leave him here with me. I'll take care of him. Hey, now, you're kind of soft-hearted, ain't you? Well, I just don't like to see a dog killed, that's all. Uh-huh. Well, I'll tell you what we'll do. That dog cost us 400 bucks. We sell them to you at half price. $200. $200? But you were just going to shoot him. We've got to get part of our investment back. Otherwise, that 400 bucks is a dead loss. Isn't that right, ladies? Sure, it is. Well, I don't have $200. Oh. Well, how much do you have? Well, I don't know. I bought 150, I guess. 150. All right, we'll sell them to you for 150. I can't spare that money. It's all I've got. Suit yourself. If you don't want to buy them, I'll just have to shoot them. I'll get my sick shoes. Oh, now, wait a minute. Wait. I'll give you the money. I thought you'd change your mind. When the two sourdoughs had gone, Frankie half dragged, half carried the sick dog into his cabin. He made a comfortable bed for him by the stove and then brought him some food and water. Here you go, boy. From now on, there'll be no more kicks and no more weapons either. You're just going to stay right here by the stove till you're well again. Under Frankie's gentle care, the St. Bernard quickly regained his strength and with every day that passed, the bonds of affection between the orphan boy and the huge dog grew stronger and stronger. Whether Frankie was hobbling about on his crutches or seated inside the cabin, the big St. Bernard was never more than a few feet away from his new master. Several weeks after Frankie had acquired the dog, Sergeant Preston and King stopped the boy's cabin. So this is your new partner. I've heard about him. Oh, isn't he a swell dog? He certainly is, Frankie. I'm no expert on St. Bernard, but this one looks like a real champion. What's his name? Well, I call him Lucky because it was Lucky for both of us that he came here. Did he just stray here? Oh, no, he belonged to two sourdoughs named Kern and Slaton. They were using him as right wheel dog in their team. He got sick and lame and couldn't go any farther. So they were going to shoot him. And instead you took him off their hands, is that it? Well, I had to buy him. Buy him? I thought you said they were going to shoot him. Well, they were. But I guess the one named Kern figured he could get some money out of me. He knew I couldn't bear to have him shoot the dog. How much do you have to pay? All the money I had, $150. But Frankie, you were saving that money to go back to the States, weren't you? Oh, that's all right. I can save some more. Besides, Lucky's worth a lot more than that as far as I'm concerned. How much will you need altogether? Well, I can make it back to the States on $5 or $600, I guess. What about the operation on your leg after you get there? The doctor in Dawson said it would have to be done by a specialist. He says there's a doctor in San Francisco who can do it. But it'll probably cost at least $500. Well, Frankie, let's hope you can have that operation as soon as possible. Come on, King. King and Lucky were lying by the stove. At Sergeant Preston's summons, both dogs arose and trodded eagerly toward the Mountie. Oh, hey, the Sergeant didn't call you Lucky. He was calling King. The two of them seem to have made friends. Lucky probably hates to break off the acquaintance. I guess that must be it. Well, goodbye, Frankie. Goodbye, Sergeant. Come on, King. Once again, Lucky pricked up his ears and whined. He took a step toward Sergeant Preston and then halted as though puzzled or confused. Well, girlie, I believe Lucky wants to follow you, Sergeant. Look at him. Yes, I see. You must really have a way with dogs. Oh, I doubt if that's the explanation. Lucky strikes me as being a one-man dog and you're the man. Well, I've got to be hitting the trail. Bye, Frankie. So long, Sergeant. Come on, King. The following morning at Mounted Police Headquarters in Dawson City, Sergeant Preston reported to Inspector Maynard's office. King was at his master's side. As the Sergeant entered the office, he saw a well-dressed man seated beside the inspector's desk. You wanted to see me, Inspector? Oh, yes, Sergeant. Thank you to meet this gentleman. Sergeant Preston, this is Mr. Lewis Shelley of San Francisco. How do you do, sir? Very glad to know you, Sergeant. Well, George, that's a beautiful dog you have there. Malamute is it. That's right. You sound as though you're interested in dogs. I am. Very much so. In fact, the reason I have come to you, Sergeant, is to locate a stolen dog. Belonging to you? That's right. He's a safe and hired, a very valuable one. He's one half of dozen blue ribbons and two best in shows. Naturally, I'm very anxious to get him back. How'd he happen to get stolen? Well, as you probably know, there's been quite a premium on dogs all along the West Coast ever since the gold rush started. There are regular gangs of dog snatchers operating in all the big cities. Yes, I've heard. They grab all the dogs they can leave their hands on, especially the big dogs, and ship them up here to the Yukon for slid work. Anyone? Well, to make a long story short, that's what happened to the chaplain. A careless attendant led him out of his kennel. He wandered away somewhere, and the next thing we knew, he was busy. Well, you know for sure that he was shipped up here to the Yukon. Yes, that's definite. You see, I hired the Pickerton people to find him. They located the man who had stolen him and found out that he had been shipped up to Day Beach in a corner called the Portland Lash. And the trail lands right there, I take it. Yes, unfortunately. However, I'm offering a reward of $2,000 to anyone who finds him and returns him, with no questions asked. I'm hoping that may get resolved. Was there any particular way the dog can be identified? Well, his color is white with dark brindle. I've written down an exact description, but I suppose all Satanards look alike as you're a breeder. I think the best way he can be identified is by his name. What do you mean? His full name is Champion King Emperor of Sempak. But he answers to the name of King. King? The sergeant's dog is also named King. That's quite a coincidence. Mr. Shelley, I think I know where your dog is. What's that? Good heavens, I knew the muddies were efficient, but I didn't know you were that efficient. It's pure luck this time. See, sir, I was visiting a person yesterday who owns the St. Bernard, beautiful dog, white and brindle. When I called King, the St. Bernard responded. Twice, in fact. Sergeant, that's wonderful news. Where is he? At a cabin on the Yukon Trail, about 89 miles south of here. Sergeant, suppose you go and get the dog and bring him back to town. Mr. Shelley is staying at the Victoria Hotel. Well, very well, sir. You don't look very pleased with the assignment. Is there something wrong, Sergeant? The person who owns the dog, sir, is an orphan boy. He's grown very attached to that St. Bernard. I'm afraid it's going to break his heart when he finds out he left a part with the dog. We'll continue our story in just a moment. So you two kids want to play a new whistle game today. Yes, sir. Now, as I get it, Billy, Sandra and I can say anything we want about Quakerpuff wheat and Quakerpuff rice. And you stop us with the whistle if you think we're wrong. But I can trip you up, too. All right, just you try and do it. You can't stop me when I say there's nothing taste quite as scrumptious for breakfast as a heaping bowl of delicious, crisp Quakerpuff wheat or Quakerpuff rice topped with milk or cream and fruit. Ha! I got you there. A second bowl of Quakerpuff rice or wheat tastes just as well as a first. Well, I have to admit you're right. But you won't trip us up on the fact that premium grains of wheat and rice are shot from guns actually exploded up to eight times normal size. So they taste crisp and delicious as nuts in November. Ha! You're wrong. I say Quakerpuff wheat and Quakerpuff rice taste even better than nuts in November. He tripped us up again, Sandra. But let him try and do it on the subject of nourishment. Quakerpuff wheat and rice furnish extra food values of restored natural grain amounts of vitamin B1, niacin and iron. And I know for sure about the picture of the smiling Quakerman on the front of every package of Quakerpuff wheat and Quakerpuff rice. Yes, that's the way all you fellas and girls can be sure of getting the swellest tasting breakfast ever. The one and only Quakerpuff wheat and Quakerpuff rice. They're never sold in bags or bulk. So always remember to buy the big red and blue packages with the picture of the smiling Quakerman on the front. He's your guarantee that you're getting the one and only Quakerpuff wheat and Quakerpuff rice. Shot from guns. Now to continue our story. While Sergeant Preston was finding out about the stolen Saint Bernard dog, the two sourdows who had sold the dog to Frankie Warren were seated in a cabin on Caribou Creek. Kern, the bigger the two men, was staring gloomily out the window at the frozen landscape. Slayton, his partner, was reading the newspaper called the Klondike Nugget. Finally, Kern spoke. Fine mess we're in. His claim we staked out ain't no good and we're darn near broke. Haven't even got enough money to get back to the States. Hey, listen to this. Listen to what? This notice here in the paper. I'll read it to you. $2,000 reward for the return of a valuable Saint Bernard dog, which was stolen from its owner in San Francisco. What's that got to do with us? Shut up and listen. It is known to have been shipped to Dye Beach aboard the Schooner Portland Lass and was presumably sold to prospectors outfitting for the Klondike. Holy smoke. That big Saint Bernard that we bought was off the Portland Lass. The dog gone right it was. Hey, where do you have to go to collect the reward? Yeah, let's see. It says the reward will be handed over immediately upon delivery of the dog to Mr. Thomas Shelley at the Victoria Hotel in Dawson. No questions asked. You thinking of the same thing I'm thinking? I'm thinking we better go and get the dog back from that crippled kid we sold him to. Well, come on. Get your parking. We'll start right now. Yeah, all right. Well, hello. Oh, it's you two. Still remember us, eh? What do you want? We want to come in and talk to you for a minute. Kern pushed the door wide open and started his shoulders way into the cabin. But he stopped short as Lucky greeted him with a deep-throated growl. I guess the dog remembers this, too. He remembers you all right. And he doesn't like either of you. Better quiet him down, because I'm still packing that six-shooter. I might have to use it if that dog makes any trouble. Quiet, quiet, Lucky. You better go back over by the stove and lie down. That's better. Come on, Slayton. We'll go inside and tell the kid why we came here. All right. Now hurry up and tell me what you want. All right. Now that the dog is well again, we thought you might want to sell him back to us. Well, I don't. So you may as well go. Oh. Now that's too bad, kid. What do you mean? Since you won't sell us the dog, I guess we'll just have to take him, whether you like it or not. You can't do that. No, you just watch. Slayton. Yeah. Take some of that raw hide that's hanging on the wall and make a muzzle for the dog. All right. You won't ever get a muzzle on Lucky. He'll tell you to pieces before you can put it on. We ain't gonna put it on. You're gonna put it on for us. At least a ways you are if you want to stay healthy. Now come on, get busy. A short time later, the muzzle was completed and Frankie was forced to put it on Lucky. The big Saint Bernard didn't understand why his master should do such a thing, but he accepted the muzzle quietly. Then Slayton fastened the leash to his collar. Now then, fella, you're coming along with us. Come on, get moving. Once outside the cabin, the two men tied him to their sled. Then Kern and Slayton returned to the cabin. What do you want now? You've taken Lucky, isn't that enough? Before we leave, we're gonna tie you up just to make sure you don't go spilling the beans about what we did. Grab them, Slayton. After tying and gagging Frankie, the two sourdoughs left the cabin and headed for Dawson. Line, Quebec. Line the team, fella. All right. Mush. Mush. Lucky resisted frantically as the sled jerk forward and the big dog's violent efforts to free himself acted as a considerable break on the team. Come on, Lucky. Then Kern flogged the St. Bernard repeatedly with his whip, but Lucky wouldn't stop struggling and had to be half-dragged along the trail. Finally, as the team headed up a steep rise, Slayton called a halt. Hey, Kern, stop the team. What's wrong? May we better hog-tie that mutt and put him on the sled. We can haul him along easy enough that way. That's a good idea. The two men tied Lucky's paws together and dragged him up on the sled. As they prepared to resume their journey, the dog team approaching on the trail below. It was Sergeant Preston on his way to Frankie's cabin. Hey, ain't that a Mountie down there? Yeah, it looks that way. He gets a look at us and finds out what happened to the kid. He'll know that we were the guys that did it. What's more, he'll know which way we're heading. You're right. We better cut over to the east before he gets any closer. Yeah, it looks like we're taking a shortcut to one of the creeks. All right, G, go back. G there. Oh, Mush. Mush. Mush. When Sergeant Preston arrived at Frankie's cabin, he found Frankie lying bound and gagged on the bunk. Frankie, here, let me get this gag off. Oh, golly, thanks, Sergeant Preston. Well, these ropes are off in a minute. What happened? Those two men are so lucky to me. They came back and took him away. Sergeant Preston untied the crippled boy. Frankie told him how Kern and Slayton had stolen the big St. Bernard dog. Can you go after them and get Lucky back, Sergeant? I'll go after them, Frankie, and I promise you they'll be punished for what they did, but I'm afraid you may never get Lucky back. What do you mean? The truth is, I came here to take Lucky away from you. Well, Sergeant, you're joking, aren't you? I wish I were. You see, Frankie, I found out this morning that Lucky's a valuable show dog. He was stolen from his owner in San Francisco. The owner's come to the Yukon. He's offering $2,000 reward for the dog's return. Inspector Maynard sent me here to get Lucky and bring him back to town. But, Sergeant, Lucky and I are pals. You can't take him away from me. I have no choice, Frankie. Lucky was stolen from his rightful owner. As a police officer, it's my duty to see his return. Naturally, the reward money will go to you. I don't want the money. It's Lucky I want. Sergeant, please, please, don't take him away from me. Now, listen, Frankie, things may not work out as bad as you think. That reward money will get you back to the states and bring you back to town. That reward money will get you back to the states and pay for the operation on your leg. That means you'll be able to walk again without crutches. Well, Golly, if I only could... You can and you will, providing we can arrest Kern and Slayton before they turn the dog over to his owner. But I don't understand. You said yourself Lucky would have to be returned. He will, but I want you to be the one who returns him. Once Kern and Slayton get their hands on the reward money, there'll be no legal way to get it back. Even though they stole Lucky from me? The dog was already stolen property, and the reward was offered to anyone who returned him, with no questions asked. Our only hope is to arrest them before they get a chance to collect the reward. Oh, Golly, Sergeant, do you think you can? That depends on how fast King and the team can get us to Dawson. Come on, Frankie, get your Parker. You're coming to Dawson with me. More than an hour later, Kern and Slayton reach Dawson City. Before entering town, they covered Lucky up with a tarpaulin to avoid attracting attention. When they arrived at the Victoria Hotel, they drove their team around to the back of the building. Then they went into the hotel and found out Thomas Shelley's room number from the desk clerk. A few minutes later, they knocked on his door. Yes? Uh, you, Mr. Thomas Shelley? I am. Well, we've come to collect that reward money you're offering. You mean you have the dog, but I thought... Oh, we got your dog all right. Don't worry about that. We'll turn him over to you. Just as soon as we see the color of your money. Now, uh, have you got 2,000 bucks with you right now? Well, of course I have. I can pay you right out of my water tier. We'll go get the dog right now and bring him up to your room. Come on, Slayton. All right. Meanwhile, Sergeant Preston was just halting his team in front of the hotel. Hulking! Hulking! You stay here, Frankie. I'll go on up to Mr. Shelley's room. All right, Sergeant. There's still a chance we're not too late. At that moment, King caught a scent which he had smelled back at Frankie's cabin. The scent of his dog friend, the big St. Bernard called Lucky. King had heard the name Lucky as the Sergeant and Frankie talked, and he sensed that his master was looking for the dog. He whined and tugged at the Sergeant's sleeve. What's the matter with King, Sergeant? He wants to show me something, I guess. Sorry, King. I can't stop and look right now. I'm in a hurry. Well, it sounds important. King usually has a reason for anything he does. Maybe we'd better take a look. Wait a minute. I'm coming too, Sergeant. After the Sergeant, as he followed King around to the back of the hotel, the Huskies stopped at a loaded sled and began tugging at the tarpaulin which covered the load. What? Something moving under there. I'll take it off, King. What? It's Lucky. They've got him all tied up. Looks like we've beaten Kern and Slayton after all thanks to King. Hey, Kern and Slayton had come around the side of the building, and it seemed Frankie and the Sergeant examining their sled. You're already in trouble for stealing this boy's dog. Don't make it any worse by resisting arrest. Don't make me laugh. That dog's worth 2,000 bucks to me and Slayton here. 2,000 bucks will get us back to the States in style. If you think any two-bit red goat's going to stop us, you got another thing coming. I'll start backing into that shed over there. Sorry, but I don't think I will. I'm coming over and take that gun away from you. Don't try anything, Maldi. I got an itchy trigger finger. You're not out on the trail now, Kern. You're in Dawson City, with hundreds of people in hearing distance. You'll pull that trigger and you'll swing on a gallows just as sure as your hand is shaking right now. He's right, Kern. I'd say you're the one that's scared, Kern. Take him, Kern! Kern had been watching Sergeant Preston. He wasn't prepared for King's savage attack. The Husky Spangs crunched down on his gunhand, and the bullet plowed harmlessly into the ground. Sergeant's gun had already cleared leather. Hold it, Slickman, unless you want a broken arm. Get your hands up! That's better. All right, King, that's enough for you. I'm getting covered. Get up on your feet, Kern. You're both under arrest in the name of the Queen. A short time later, Sergeant Preston and Frankie Warren turn Lucky over to his owner in the latter's hotel room. Is that your dog, Mr. Shelling? Sergeant, you found him. Well, this is my dog, the champion himself. Come here, fellow. Sergeant Preston told Mr. Shelling how Frankie had saved the dog's life and nursed him back to health. I'm more grateful than I can see. That's all right. By George, I'm going to boost every war to $3,000. You've earned every penny of it. That dog is my most prized possession. He's more than a possession of Frankie. What do you mean, Sergeant? Frankie loves that dog, Mr. Shelling. They've gotten to be mighty good pals these last two weeks. Good day. Frankie, maybe you'd better say goodbye to Lucky right now and wait for me out in the hall is something I'd like to talk over with Mr. Shelling. I'll bring the reward money to you. All right, Sergeant. Come here, Lucky. The big, sorrowful-looking St. Bernard trotted over to the boy and nuzzled his hand. Then Frankie bent down and let the dog lick his face. Goodbye, Lucky. Oh, well. Frankie tried hard to blink back the tears that were stinging his eyes. Thomas Shelly looked at the sergeant uncomfortably. Well, I... I guess I'd better go now. As Frankie closed the door behind him, the big St. Bernard whined and scratched at the door frantically. Easy, fella. You know, Mr. Shelly, I'd say you're going to have a mighty unhappy champion now that Frankie's gone out of his life. With the hangy door, what can I do? You told me over at Headquarters this morning that I'd like to talk to you about Headquarters this morning. A careless kennel hand was responsible for your dog being stolen. Yes, it's red. I bet you fired that man. I certainly did. Frankie will be going back to the States for an operation on his leg. Don't you suppose he might be the ideal man to take care of the champion? By George, Sergeant, that's an idea. Frank, get back here. I'm going to talk to you. A moment later, Frankie re-entered the room. I'll see you here, family. The champion here needs a special hand. An ordinary kennelman won't do. How would you like to come back to the States with me and take you on the job? What? You mean a job just taking care of Lucky all the time? That's right. You'll take care of Lucky, but that's not the principal reason for taking you back to the States. I want to give you a home and an education. I want you to have everything I'd give my own son. You'll go to school, make friends. You'll have to work hard and study hard, but there'll be time for play. Well, that is that sound to you. Oh, golly. Golly. Oh, thanks, Mr. Shelley, and thank you, Sergeant Preston. Make good, Frankie. Just make good. That's all the thanks I want. Yes, King? Well, time for you and me to step out of the picture. This case is closed. In just a moment, Sergeant Preston will give you a preview of Wednesday's adventure. Here's the breakfast that wins the praise of so many top-action Hollywood movie stars. It's Quaker Puff Leach or Quaker Puff Rice. These ready-to-serve cereals are shot from guns. They're crisp and tender. They're going through with nut-like flavor, too. Pour yourself a bowl full of Quaker Puff Leach or Quaker Puff Rice. Add milk or cream. Top with fruit. It's keen. It really hits the spot. And it's good for you. Take a tip. Ask Mom to order both delicious kinds in the big red-and-blue Quaker packages. That's Quaker Puff Leach and Quaker Puff Rice. Listen Wednesday when Sergeant Preston and Yukon King meet the challenge of the Yukon in the case of the stolen box. When King and I heard about the robbery and shooting on the trail of Indian Creek, we set out to catch the crooks and recover the box meant for the bank. We didn't expect to run into the situation that developed and after some tense moments. When we met the crooks, we found that there was a surprise in store for all of us. Be sure to hear this exciting adventure Wednesday. These radio dramas a feature of the challenge of the Yukon Incorporated are created and produced by George W. Trendle 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 Puff Wheat and Quaker Puff Rice. The breakfast cereal shot from guns. Your best bet for hot breakfast is Quaker Oats. The giant of the cereals is Quaker Oats. Delicious, nutritious, makes you feel ambitious. The giant of the cereals is Quaker Oats. Yes, if you want to be a star in sports and school activities, make your hot cereal Quaker Oats because Quaker Oats helps grow the stars of the future. You get more growth, more endurance from oatmeal than from any other whole grain cereal. Remember, Quaker and Mother's Oats are the same. This is J. Michael wishing you good bye, good luck, and good health from Quaker Puff Wheat and Quaker Puff Rice.