 The challenge of the Yukon! The Wonder Dog King, the 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 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. There were many courageous men and women who settled the Western United States, homesteaders, cattlemen, empire builders. But there was a lawless element too, men who'd commit murder for a price or because killing was in their blood. Manny Richards was one of these. He was just a youngster when with a handful of hard-bitten frontiersmen, he stood off an Indian attack at Adobe City. Looks like I've fallen back, Kim. Yeah, better take a look around. How many of our men they get? Well, Luke's down. Benson. Taylor. Hey, look at the kid, would you? Hey, he's mighty handy with a rifle. I'll say that for him. What's he blinking for? Huh? That eye is. Look. He's fattin' like he had something in it. Well, maybe it's nerves. Nose. He holds that rifle with a steady hand. The Redskins are gonna rush us again! Manny Richards was mighty handy with a rifle or a six-gun, and the episode at Adobe City was the beginning of a career during which neither of these weapons were out of his hands for long. Few sheriffs in the West remained in office long. A number of those who didn't died because they tried to stop the Larry Wells gang. In the Wolfshed Saloon in Flintlock in 1892. Put that bottle down there, Barkie. Yeah, that's right. Hey, just heard from my district, you Larry. Yeah? What is it? Taylor says he's coming down here and he's gonna give us ten minutes to get out of town. Yeah, have a drink. Yeah. You like it here, Manny? Yeah. Hold it. Oh. Yeah, sure. Well, so do I. Heh, there comes that badge told her now. You want me to take care of this? With that blinkin' eye you got? Nah, the sheriff will think you're winkin' at him. Well, that's me. I'm givin' you boys just ten minutes to get out of town. We kinda like your town, Sheriff. Fact is, we aim to stay here as well. I've won. That's all I need. Hey! Several years passed. One by one, Wells' followers have been killed until only the leader himself and Manny Richards remain. Two men sat alone in a cabin isolated in the hills. From force of habit, both men sat with their backs to a corner of a room, facing the only window in the building and the bolted door. Ain't that lamp down a bit, will you, Larry? Huh? Oh, yeah. How long do you plan to stay hold up in here? Till I figure out what I'm gonna do next. Head for the border, I guess. Well, you can count me out on this deal. Heh. It's a matter. You ain't yellow now, are you? Me? Maybe that's what you'd tell it. But when the law gets as close as it is, maybe it's smart to know when you're licked. One of the years was for a hire just as long as you only had a two-bit sheriff to worry about it. Maybe. I'm not dying with any bullet in my back, Larry. That's what's waiting for you unless you clear out of the country. I'll clear out, all right. But it won't be for long. What about you? Be smart for you to get out to the border, too, you know. Well, I'm gonna turn prospect. Prospecter? Well, you're good at paying dust. That's a good one. Maybe you ain't been keeping up the news lately. I have. Gold's been discovered in the Yukon territory, Larry. And that's where I'm going. It's wide open. Stay up there a while and see just how my luck is. I didn't know you'd better. I'd see you'd lost your nerve. I ain't lost anything. I'm getting out of the country, that's all. Get a start where nobody knows me. I wish you luck. Richard went to the Yukon, where after several months he staked a claim. He felt secure in the knowledge that he was safe in a country where no one knew him. Until one day he met the man whose cabin and claim adjoined his own. In that cabin, Julie Ferguson cleared the dishes from the table, while her father sat smoking his pipe, gazing steadily into the fire. Goodness, Dad, you look as if you're thousands of miles away. What's wrong? Well, I guess I am thousands of miles away, Julie. I was thinking, what's your opinion of Richard's? Oh, I don't know. Seems quiet enough. There's something about him that's like a panther and some cunning animal. Always has his guard up. Yes, that's it. Those eyes of his. I suppose it's just a nervous habit, but his constant blinking. Blinking? Blink. That's it, Julie, that's it. Well, whatever you're talking about. When you go into town for supplies tomorrow, I want you to leave word there for Sergeant Preston to come out here. Sergeant Preston? Good boy, what's all this got to do with Mr. Richard? Maybe it's got a lot to do with him. I'll write a note for Preston tonight. All I want you to do is take it into town. But Richard mustn't know anything about it. If he did, it might be dangerous for both of us, Julie. The next day, when John Ferguson carried the scraps of leftover food from his cabin, he walked several yards toward the edge of a birch forest. Here, he overturned the basket. As he did, a huge black bear lumbered forward. These bears were the scavengers of the North. Go on and get out of the way. There were several of those slow-moving animals in the vicinity. Ferguson had grown as used to them as they had to him. The man glanced for a moment to the small cabin on the land bordering his own, unaware that Manny Richards watched him from a window. And so the days passed. There was a tension in the air. Richards and Ferguson avoided each other. And the elderly prospector suspected the reason for Manny Richards' increased awareness. Goodness, isn't that a rifle dead? Yes, Richards must be doing some fighting. Sounds certainly carries in this stillness, doesn't it? He's been doing a lot of hunting these last couple of days. Julia, are you sure they didn't tell you exactly when Sergeant Preston would be in when you were in town? Nobody knew exactly. Except that he's due in either today or tomorrow. I do wish you'd tell me what's worrying you. Ain't nothing at all. Now, don't you trouble your head and none about it. I'll take that rubbish out for you. Them bears will be beating the door down unless there's some food out there for them to nibble at. You're right, bad, Julia. John Ferguson walked slowly, his head bent against the wind. If he heard the bear coming from the timber, he thought nothing of it, but continued walking. The animal snarled, voicing the inarticulate sounds of the wilderness. It was the Ferguson, then looked up to meet glowing eyes, and bared teeth as the animal moved awkwardly forward. Get away! Get away! The air was full of the savage growls coming from the bear's throat. King and Sergeant Preston heard those sounds as they approached the cabin. The Mountie, turning, randomly fled for a rifle. But the great Malamute, sensing Ferguson's danger, raced forward to the animal whose giant forepaw was at that moment raised, ready to strike a blow that would have knocked the elderly prospector unconscious had it hit him. Instead, as Malamute approached, the bear turned, throwing himself off balance. He immediately made use of his momentary vantage, harrying the animal by running circles around him. Diverting his attention, while John Ferguson ran wildly toward his cabin. But as in lunge, traveling, backing away, nipping the hind paws and escaping narrowly away from the prospector's forefaws, it was then that the curious and happy bear made one desperate run toward him that Preston began firing. He stood quietly for a moment, and the bear dropped in front of him. King, oh boy, whoa! Thanks, Captain, you're all right. I'll never be able to thank you. Your dog saved my life. Good work, King, old fella. I don't understand all this. These bears have always been very quiet. I was used to them. They make their way here and eat the scraps from our table. Then today, for no reason in the world, this one attacked me. Yeah, you're fortunate we haven't along when we did. But it's all over now, John. I got your note, and that's why I come out here right away. Now tell me, where does this man live? You know, this bear has a magnificent pelt. I'm going to have it. Every time I look at it, I'll remember my narrow escape. Do you have a knife, Sergeant? Yeah, sure. Here you are. You know, that's very odd. Strange that an animal should attack you if, as you say, you've grown used to each other. There's some reason for that. Hey, John, here. Let me examine that part. Oh, what's wrong, Sergeant? Now look, see here. You notice the pelt here? Someone was firing at this bear. Firing what looks to me like a... Yes, it is. A 22. But you'd never kill one of these bears with a 22? Man might as well use a slingshot. I'm not so sure it wouldn't serve the same purpose as a slingshot. It'd irritate the animal and madden it to the point where it would attack the first man to cross its path. Then you mean it? Somebody made an attempt on your life by using this bear, John. Come on. We're going over to this man's cabin. As the two men walked across the clearing, King followed his master. For a moment, he doubted his ears when he heard what was apparently a repetition of the incident that had occurred but a few minutes before. Another vicious bear. You, Sergeant! You've got it, Sergeant! Too late, I'm afraid. Richard is dead. That bear broke his neck. Two on the same day. Surely all of these animals here can't... Same thing I see. The hide's been peppered with bullets from a 22. I don't understand all this. There's his sled all packed. Seems to me like Richard was leaving his cabin then... Then he was stopped. From the description I have, that's many Richard all right. I had no idea he was in the territory. You haven't been up this way for a long time. I thought there was something familiar about him. When my daughter called my attention to those blinking eyes of his, I remembered that I'd seen him with his partner, Larry Wells, when a sheriff got killed in Flintlock back in the USA. He hasn't changed much since then. But what I don't get is why he'd anger two bears. He probably knew you'd recognized him, John. He was anxious to get you out of the way without being labeled a murderer. He thought of a very clever scheme, but had boomerang done him. It sure did. You know, John, his eyes might have been responsible for his death. How do you figure? Well, there was a glare on the snow to contend with besides his eyes. As you remarked, it was strange that more than one bear should have been angered. Possibly he meant to provoke only one. Certainly that's all that was needed for his purpose. But he made a mistake. Both bears looked exactly alike to him. Very sure paid for it. None of them are roots came to a good end. But I don't envy many Richards for the way he died. Yes, King, the case is closed. These copyrighted dramas originate in the studios of WXYC Detroit and are sent to you each week at this same time. All characters, names, places and incidents used are fictitious. Bob Hite speaking.