 but challenge the Yukon. On King! On New Heskey! 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 mounted police who preserved law and order in the new Northwest country, what read 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 Judd Peters had watched the Lula Bell unload its passengers at Whitehorse on its last trip of the season. It was about to leave the dock when he noticed a man standing helplessly amid a mountain of baggage. The man's clothes would have been highly appropriate in a London club, but he looked strange to Old Judd, who had lived in the Yukon territory for ten years. Judd approached him and cured him. Can I help you, mister? Well, if you'd be nice enough to get these bags to the local hostelry, perhaps I could persuade them to... Sure, sure, stranger. I'll give you a hand. Now, if I can carry two, and you carry two, we can leave the rest and get them later. Well, I guess there's no alternative. Oh dear, these are heavy. Cheerio, carry on. What are you doing in this year, part of the country? I came to investigate a mine that was left me by an uncle. He was rather a queer bloke, I guess. Sort of a black sheep, don't you know? Ran away from home in his youth. Left half a gold mine to me, so my solicitor tells me. What was your uncle's name? I've been around here for a long time. His name was Reginald Bradshaw Morinse. What? The name of the mine is the gold horseshoe. The gold horseshoe where that mine was owned by J. H. T. Winson, Brad Monty. Say, what did you say that moniker your uncle's voice? Reginald Bradshaw Morinse. Well, I tell the boys, no wonder he shortened it to Brad Monty. Reginald Bradshaw, whatever you call it. He sure kept that a secret. It happens to be my name too. Well, there's the hotel. Come on, you mean this ramshackle building? Well, sure. Well, sir, I want you to meet up with the gent here. He comes all the way from England. Mr. Morinse. How'd you do? All right, partner. Well, what can I do for you? I'd like room and a bath. God, stranger, I ain't got a room left. I sure don't see why you want a bath in this weather. I can give you sleeping space on the floor. If you don't mind squeezing in with about 20 other people. Did you say on the floor? Sure, you can roll up your blankets. At least you got a roof over your head. Well, really, I... What's that? Did he scare you? Well, that's King, Sergeant Preston's lead dog. Hello, Sergeant. He's so big. He looks like a wolf. King won't hurt you. Sergeant Preston, this here is Mr.... Mr. Monty. How'd you do? You duster, right? Yes, I'm sorry I got startled when I saw your dog. I'm not very fond of the beasts. Oh, you'll get used to dogs by the time you're here a while. They're all over the place. Really? Well, I doubt I shall be here long. I can't find a place to stay. I guess you'd better come out to my cabin with me. I live all alone, and you ain't used to shifting for yourself. That's a good idea, Montmorency. That'll take care of you. Oh, I say that is kind of you. I shall see, of course, that you're properly recompensed. After time, I don't know what you're saying, but I'll be glad to keep you there. Your uncle and Brad Monty was a good friend of mine. Did you say Brad Monty? Yeah, this he is, his nephew. He inherited part of the gold horseshoe mine. Well, I had no idea, but Monty had a nephew. Well, this'll be rather a surprise to your uncle's partner, Jake Stevens. You mean he doesn't know about me? No, I'm sure he doesn't. As a matter of fact, we're still investigating your uncle's death. He died rather mysteriously. Jake Stevens was alone in his cabin when Monk Bran burst in. Jake! Jake! You know who just blew in the towel? Monk! What's wrong? A dude by the name of Montmorency says he's Brad Monty's nephew and claims his uncle left him half the gold horseshoe mine. Hmm. Then Brad wasn't one. He did have a family in England. And he had sent them papers before he died. Hey, I bet he had a hunch something was gonna happen. And it seems like we went to a lot of trouble for nothing. I suppose this means I don't get part of Brad's holdings. Not if this nephew is a real thing. Ellen, you better start handing over part of yours. I didn't help you with that little job just to amuse myself. You didn't take a risk. Nobody knows that Brad's death was an accident. That Mounty Preston ain't satisfied. He keeps smoking around white horse, asking questions about it all the time. What's this nephew like? He's a sissy, sort of, fella. The worst Greenhorn ever saw. All dressed up in fancy clothes, and he don't know a muckluck from a malamute. Hmm. He shouldn't be hard to handle. No. What do you mean? Where's he staying? There wasn't room at the hotel, and old Judd Peters has taken him to his cabin. Judd Peters? It kind of worries me. Judd was a friend of Brad Monty's. He didn't like the way Monty died, either. Maybe we can get rid of both of them at once. Well, here's what you do. What's the cabin? As soon as they leave it tomorrow, you pour some oil around the bottom of the walls. Yeah. If we do something soon enough, we'll be in the clear. Nobody knows that we know he's in town. The following morning, Judd was returning from town with a supply of food when he was hailed by Sergeant Preston. Hi there, Judd. Wait a minute. Good morning, Sergeant. How's your new provisor getting along? My what? The Englishman. Oh, Reggie. I can't remember his last name very well, so I just call him Reggie. I don't think he's very happy. Oh, isn't? He must have had a funny kind of life. Can't eat off of tin plates. They seem to kind of bother his appetite. He don't like sleeping in blankets, because he thinks maybe they're dirty. I told him that Chinaman Town had washed him just last year. He just seemed to get used to porcupine. That's my pet porcupine being around all the time, and he's always cold. Yes, I imagine life up here is a bit rugged for anyone like him. But I go with you the day, and you take him to Gold Horse Shoe Mine. Well, sure, Sergeant. At them papers, he showed you genuine. Oh, yes, he's Brad Monte's nephew, all right. Seems funny, though, that Brad would suddenly remember his family after having nothing to do with him for so many years. Well, well, sure, Englishmen are like that, they say, but they knew something might happen to him, and didn't want Jake Stevens to get the mine. Eh, he found out anything more about Brad's death, have you? No. Hey, King, come in with us, boy. To his mine seem to have cast Reggie into even deeper bloom as he returned to dusk to Judd's cabin, foot sore, weary and cold. Hey, I can't believe that an uncle of mine actually worked in that place with a pickin' shovel. Well, he did, and he planned the cold in the creek in the summer. Reggie, ain't you never done no work in your whole life? Well, no, that is not manually done. What's wrong with King? Look, Judd, he keeps circling around New York. Maybe he just smells porky. Oh, he knows porky, that wouldn't bother him. What is it, fella? Someone's been around this cabin since we left. King smells something, look at him. He's so strong, it makes him sneeze. I don't know what it could be. Do you smell kerosene? But my nose ain't very sensitive. Everything smells awful in this country. I can't tell one bad odor from another. Judd, have you spilled any oil around here lately? I ain't filled the land in for a week. Been using candles. Someone's poured kerosene around the base of your cabin. I wonder why. I can't see why anyone would do that. They wanted to burn it. Why didn't they do it while we was gone? I wonder. Judd, I think King and I will camp near your cabin tonight. You mean sleep outdoors in this weather? No, we're used to that. Anyway, it isn't really cold up here yet. It's only zero. You mean it actually gets colder than this? Sure, this is mild. But this kerosene... You two go to bed as usual. King and I will stand guard. We won't let anyone get near the cabin to set fire to it, and we'll catch the one who tries. The northern light splashing across the sky lighted up the small clearing around Judd's cabin, as Preston lay concealed within view of it. His lead dog King stretched close beside him. It was almost midnight when the big husky raised his head, a low growl rumbling in his throat. Easy boy. Here's something to you. Quiet King. We got them as soon as they showed themselves. But the Mountie saw no one, as he peered through the darkness. Then suddenly from a clump of trees well back from the clearing, a flaming arrow shot through the air landing at the base of the well-soaked cabin. Then another followed quickly, stuck into the wall, and flames roared skyward. They've used arrows. After them, King. Over there, boy. Get them. Judd, Chrissy, get up. Get out of here. The cabin's on fire. Get out. I say, don't you still have time. If we can't save the cabin, I'm going after the people who did this. Come on, Marty. Let's get out of here. King. King, where are you, boy? Tell me somebody. Hold him, fella. I'm coming. Take him away. Call him quickly, didn't you, fella? Good. All right. Back, King. Let him up. Oh, yeah. Almost chewed me to pieces. Well, Monk Brand. So you're the one who tried to burn Judd's cabin. No, no, I ain't. And I ain't afraid to tell who done it, that dirty skunk ran when this dog jumped me. Deserter, do I? Probably thought King would kill you. Yeah, yeah, that's what he thought. Let me take a rap for him. It was Jake Stevens. He shot them arrows. Jake Stevens. First his partner, Brad Monty, now he's trying to get rid of Monty's air. I can tell you plenty about Brad Monty's death, too. Jake Stevens ain't getting away with this. Reggie Montmorency squirmed and scratched uncomfortably as he sat in Sergeant Preston's cabin the next morning. He was clad in an old flannel shirt and ragged trousers that Judd had borrowed for him. Oh, if only I'd saved something to wear last night. Oh, that's what you get for sleeping in them fancy pyjamas. Never heard of such a thing. I didn't expect Jake Stevens to choose arrows to start that fire. We could have stopped it. I'm sorry you lost everything, Judd. Oh, I don't mind. As long as you get them varmints locked in jail where they belong. Reggie can run his mine in peace now. He'll be in prison for a long time. You say I can run the mine? Well, yes, it's yours, you know. And to run it, I'd have to stay in this country, live like this and wear clothes such as this. Oh, sure, Reggie. You get used to it. Uh, Judd, you really like this life, don't you? Living here in the cold, roughing it, so to speak? Sure, I do, Reggie. I never live no other way. And now your cabin has been burned. Oh, I can build another one. Judd, you've done so much for me. I wonder if you'll do one thing more. Well, sure, Reggie, sure. We Montmorences always pay our debts. I'd like to make up for that bit of arson that was so disastrous for you. And recompense you somewhat for your hospitality. Oh, gosh, Reggie. I sure wish you'd talk English. Well, Judd, what I'm trying to say is I want you to accept half my share and the gold horse you mine and run it for me. You mean you're giving me half a... Gosh, you see, I'm really grateful to you and Sergeant Preston. You took me in and he saved my life. If it hadn't been for this dog king, if it hadn't been for the king, we'd both be a couple of cinders. Sergeant Preston is the one... Reggie knows we can't accept anything for just doing our duty. I want to go back to England. Please, Judd, accept my offer and see to it that this beautiful dog never lacks anything. Well, thanks, Reggie. I'll take care of the mine for you and as for king, you ever lack anything? Well, I guess that's one thing you'll never have to worry about, Reggie. Not while I'm alive. Reggie Boy. These copyrighted dramas originated 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. Hal Neal speaking. This is the Michigan Radio Network.