 The challenge of the Yukon The Wonder Dog King, swiftest and strongest of Eskimo lead dogs, places the trail through storm and snow for Sergeant Preston as he meets the challenge of the Yukon. The Yukon Sergeant Preston was typical of the small band of northwest-mounted police who preserved law and order in the new northwest country where the 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. Old Tom Dumfie had been in the Yukon for over 10 years. By prospecting, crapping, he saved enough to come to Dawson City with $10,000 cash. The Golden Ace Cafe was crowded with noisy miners as Old Tom talked to two men at a table. You see, he wouldn't sell out except we can work two teams. It takes both of us to handle one. Well, that rock sure showed plenty of gold, but I can't give you that much money for it. I just remain gutted. We've got to sell quick. What's your best offer, Dumfie? Well, to tell you the truth, I got exactly $10,000. I'm afraid we can't do business. You could probably take that much out of this mine in a month or less. Well, Dave, come to think of it, that ain't such a bad offer. We don't know any more than Dumfie here just how far back that vein goes. We know there's plenty there, and he don't go get that much money back, but we've gotten away with it. Well, not all them huskies are yours, Dumfie. You could sell them, or we'd be one to take. Oh, no, suree. Them dogs ain't for sale. I love every last one of them. Why, they've been my only companions. $10,000 is awful cheap for that claim. Well, you can take it or leave it. I've been living all alone in the wilderness with my dogs, and I ain't much at bargaining. Now, it's either yes or no. Uh-huh. Are you planning to work the mine all alone? No. The reason I wanted to buy one is because I'm planning to bring Menefie up here. He's alone now that my brother died, and he's a fine, strong young man, and we can work it together. What do you say, Dave? I'm willing to settle it now. We just ain't got the time to find another buyer. Come on, let's give Tom a break. Well, I hate to do it, but good. The mine's yours, Tom. It's a deal. We'll draw up the papers tomorrow, right Menefie, and we'll start working the mine right away. The mine for two weeks. Can't get nothing out of it. Hey, don't understand. Well, I guess ain't no doubt about it. You've been swindler. Swindler? But I dug rock out of here myself before I bought this mine. It was full of gold. It showed up in 1990. Yeah. They saw to it you dug in the right places. Right places? Ain't you never heard of salt in a mine? Salt in a mine? Yeah, shooting gold us into rock with a shotgun, selling it to someone itching to own a gold mine. You mean that them skunks would take a man's life-shaving, cheat him out of everything he's worked and saved for? He sure took off in a hurry, didn't he? They ain't got another claim around here at all, a way to say it. Well, that finishes it. I should have stayed up where I was alone with my dogs. They're the only things a man should ever trust anyway. Humans are nothing but a heap of lies and deceit. Cheech, murderers, thieves. But turn them in all I guess. And I never want to see another one again as long as I live. I'm taking my dogs and going back to the wilderness. And if ever any lying two-legged skunk comes within a mile of me, I'll fill him full of box rock. Sergeant Preston driving his dog team on the trail into Dawson. Hopped as he saw a young man trudging through him on a bypass. Hello, King. Hi there, Huskies. Hello, going to Dawson? Yes, I am. I'll throw you a pack on my sled and come with me. These are for you. Oh, thanks, sir. It is pretty heavy. Now, this will help a lot. Thanks. Oh, nice to have company on the trail. On, King. On, you Huskies. It sure gets cold out of this country, doesn't it? Yes, but you get used to it. You a newcomer? Oh, I've been here about three weeks. I've had a rather odd time of it. Are you alone? My uncle sent for me. I lived in the States, but when I got here, he was gone. And nobody seems to be aware. You mean he just disappeared? Well, an old prospector told me he'd gone up into the wilderness with his dogs because, well, he'd been cheated when he bought his mine. He simply abandoned it. And me too, I guess. What have you been doing since then? Well, I... I... I didn't know what else to do, so I've been working the mine. I didn't have enough money to get back home, so I figured maybe I could get enough out of it to get me back to the States at least. That ain't like... The old prospector told me about my uncle said there was no gold in it at all. So I started all over again from a different direction. You know, I hit some rock today that looked different. That's what's in my pack. Do, uh... do you know anything about mining? No, little. I see what you found. Here, I'll get it for you. What do you think of it? Well, I'd say you've hit something, son. Do you really think so? Are you sure this is on your uncle's claim? Oh, it's about a hundred yards south of the present opening. You'd better check it at the assay office. And I think I'd better start looking for your uncle. Do you think I ought to go with you? You'll have to stay here and work your mind if you want to keep it. What's the name of the prospector who knew your uncle? I'd like to talk to him. Well, his name's Jed Lumis. That's all you know about old Tom, eh, Jen? Yep. I sure wish I could tell you more about him, Sergeant. But old Tom didn't ever tell me much. Well, you've helped me some, Jen. At least we know he's somewhere northwest of here. He was awful sour on the world when he left. Said he was true with humans. Had no use for anything but dogs. Can't blame him much. Guess the best way to trace him is a trading post. He had to get supplies. When Sergeant Preston arrived at Pierre Levan's trading post in Fielding's Landing, he found everyone in a high pitch of excitement. Round the place. That's what I'd say to do. Here is Sergeant Preston. Maybe he can help us, you know? Push on, Sergeant. Hello, boys. What's all the excitement? Sergeant, we have bad problem here at Fielding's Landing. Crazy man has moved in deserted cabin on Fisherman Point. A crazy man? He's shooting at everyone who's going near his cabin. You can't even go by his place on the river in a bolt without getting a load of buckshot sprayed at you. How long has he been here? About three weeks ago, he moved in. He's old man. Lives all alone with dogs. The only thing to do is shoot the old fool. Surround the cabin and shoot him. I think you'd better let me handle this alone, boys. But alone, you cannot do it. Even at night, his dogs bark if anyone comes close and boom, boom, his shotgun starts. Has he shot anyone yet? No. Everybody run other way. The point ain't far from the pass where I go to my tramp lines. And I ain't aiming to have a pot shot taken at me every time I go out to them. Well, boys, give me a couple of days and I'll get him out of there for you. You don't know what you're up against, Sergeant? I need any help. I may call on you. But I think I can handle it. King Harold helped me. Won't you, boy? The next morning, Sergeant Preston sat on a hillside overlooking Fisherman's Point. He watched old Tom Dumpy through a pair of field glasses as Pierre explained the hopelessness of trying to approach him. There, you see? You can get to him from only one direction unless you use both. There is no tree, no cover. He can see anyone who tries to come to him. He sure is crazy about those dogs of his, patting them and feeding them as if they were children. He sure is crazy about something that I know. He hates people, hates anything human. Then why he not go up in mountains somewhere still picking out best fishing point in territory? If I could just get close enough to Tom... You get peppered with buckshot, you try it. I think I figured out a way to do it. We? How you do that? He won't hurt King if he goes in the scene. If King's there first, I shouldn't have any trouble. He loves dog, that is true. Come here, King. Put your paw up here, boy. Sergeant, what you do? I'm tearing my hand. I'm going to put a bandage around his foot to make him look lame. If he goes to old Tom limping, it may give me more time to get closer while Tom's fixing his foot. I know you don't like it, fella, but it won't be on there long. No, King, don't touch it. Leave it on there, boy. He'll bite it off when he leave you. He won't if I turn on too. There you are, fella. Now let's see you walk. Look, look how he limp. Now he tried to bite it. King, now I say, don't touch that foot. Poor dog. See? He tried to understand. Now, King, do you see that man? Down there, boy. Go to him, King. No, don't touch that foot. I know it's tough, old fella, but you must do it. Go on, boy. Down there, go to him. Pierre sat on the hillside watching through Sergeant Cluston's field glasses as the mountain crept down after King, taking advantage of every bit of covering there was. King picked his way carefully as best he could on three legs, puzzled at the strange whim of his masters. As he approached old Tom Dumpty in front of his cabin, the dog sensed the friendliness in the old man in the way he commanded his dogs to be quiet. Oh, now keep still, you scary wags. You wags and you, you jinx. This ain't no two-legged vomit. He's just a nice, friendly dog. All right, all right. If you won't behave, you're going into the cabin. Get in there, all of you. Scat now. Scat. There now. What's the matter with your foot, boy? Come here and let old Tom have a look at it. Well, you wait just a second till I get my knife open. We'll have that bandage off in two shakes. Hold still, fella, hold still. Now get this under that knot. There. Well, evolved it. There ain't nothing wrong with your foot. Why in thumb did anyone put a bandage on it? Well, I can't even see a cutter. What's the matter? What you looking at? Hey, you! Stand back here! Get off of my land! Gun Tom, Duffy. Hey, you! Dog, we'll stop you. What? Your exterior's fort. King was obeying orders, Tom. I'm Sergeant Preston of the Royal Mounted Police. I've come to take you back to Dawson. All right, King. I've got his gun. Let him up. I know, old fella. He's over. He's not a bad man, are you, Tom? I don't want to go back to Dawson. I don't trust humans. I don't never want to see any of them again. Your nephew's waiting for you, Tom. And I think you'll find that he'll restore your faith in human nature. He's as fine a lad as you could find anywhere. My nephew? He's anxious for you to get back to help him with your mind. But that mind ain't any good. They salted it with gold and swindled me out of my savings. Funny part of it is, Tom, they swindled themselves without knowing it. Your nephew just got with a rich vein of gold about a hundred yards south of the place you were digging. You were a rich man. Yeah, what? Come on, Tom. Pack up your things and get ready. We're going back. It was a month later when Sergeant Preston drew up in front of old Tom Dumpey's mind. Tom and his nephew were working busy, but stopped as they saw the mountain. Hello, King. Hello, Huskies. Hello there, Tom. Hello, Jack. Hey, hello, Sergeant. How are you, Sergeant Preston? How's the mind coming? Well, we're getting richer, wait a minute. This is one of the best minds in the Yukon. And if here ain't my old pal, King, how are you, boy? You're always glad to see you, Tom. I guess he never has been able to figure out why he had to jump you in Fielding's landing. Well, I'm sure glad he did it. I don't know what I'd do without my uncle. And I'm glad you did it, too, boy. For a minute there, I almost lost my faith in dogs. But what you really did was show me what a concerned old Dunderhead I was. Now, anytime he needs a home, Sergeant, that old invitation still stands. He can always live with us. Afraid that day will never come, Tom. I couldn't do without you, could I, boy? 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 rate you from our transcription studios. Howlingo speaking, this is the Michigan Radio Network.