 Now as gunshots echo across the windswept snow-covered reaches of the wild northwest, Quakerpuff wheat and Quakerpuff rice, the breakfast cereal shot from guns, present the challenge of the Yukon. It's Yukon King, swiftness and strongest lead dog of the northwest, blazing the trail for sergeant Preston of the northwest mounted police in his relentless pursuit of lawbreakers. 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 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. Here's the breakfast that brings cheers from coast to coast. The breakfast that wins praise from many a He-Man Hollywood movie star too. It's well-tasting Quakerpuff rice or Quakerpuff wheat with milk or cream and fruit. These king-size, ready-to-serve premium grains of rice or wheat are shot from guns. Yes, actually exploded up to eight times normal size to make them crisp and tender as nuts in November. Tomorrow, sure, try this thrifty deluxe breakfast treat. You'll cheer too for Quakerpuff rice or Quakerpuff wheat. The great dog king stood on the shore of Herschel Island not far from the northwest mounted post. His nose was thrust into the biting north wind. Above him the sky was blue, but the gale-driven snow made a solid wall around him. A wall 30 feet high. It was impossible to see anything, but king knew there was someone out there on the solid ice that covered the arctic ocean. A man. He leaped forward into the teeth of the gale. It took him 15 minutes to reach the man, dropping to the snow when it was impossible to fight the fury of the storm and then driving on when it led up for a moment. The man was lying face down in the snow, an eskimo. King tugged at his Parker and he tried to raise himself. Una ikto. Una ikto, he cried. A simple, plaintive moan, it's cold. But then the man's eyes seemed to focus on the dog and instinctively he took hold of king's harness. Slowly he pulled himself upright and king started back for the shore. Now the wind was at his back and he could have raced with the storm but his job was to help the man all he could. It was step by step, on and on. Only when the man tried to stop would king urge him forward. Una ikto. The reward came at last. First the dim shoreline, then the buildings of the post and finally the voice of king's master, sergeant Preston. King! King! King! King! King, where have you been, boy? Who's this? You've found someone. Una ikto. It's all right, I've got you now, fella. The sergeant practically carried the man into the barracks. He removed the pack from the man's back and lifted him into one of the bunks. Johnny! Johnny! What is it, sergeant? Any hot tea on the stove out there? Bring me a cup, hurry. The sergeant took off the man's mittens. The hands were frozen. The enlace, the mock locks. The feet were frozen as well. Constable Tierney arrived with a steaming cup of tea. It doesn't like you to pull your ranks, sergeant, but if you really need... Hey, who is it? I don't know. King found him out in the storm. He isn't from around here. Harry's coming too a little. Let's have a tea. Here. Thanks. Come on, drink this. Drink. All of it. You could drink some more. That's it. I... I... Look, he's pointing in his pack. Well, it's safe. You don't have to worry about it. See, here it is. I want you to open it. Yes. There's something right on top. Looks like a skull. No, a stone, but the way it's weathered it does look like a skull. Kabluna. What's that mean? What's it saying? Well, the few Eskimo words I know means white man. Kabluna. He's pointing to the door. Wait a minute. There's something else in here. Looks like a note. Yes. Any sense? A great deal. Listen. We've made camp. Impossible for us to return must have fresh dogs and supplies. Antigot will lead you to us. Are you Antigot? Who wrote the note? It's signed Northrop. Northrop? Where is the Kabluna? Where is Northrop? I... The outdoors. Great. It doesn't strengthen enough to talk anymore. But Northrop, Sergeant. That's Philip Northrop, the head of the Royal Geographic Expedition. The one that coal bill is here to check on. I know. Let it go and tell the inspector right away. Wait. What are you doing? Listening for a heartbeat. Is he... Is he... Yes, report to the inspector now, Johnny. Dare? Exposure. They've lost our guide. Munking. Half an hour later, the sergeant was standing beside Inspector Graves in the latter's office. Anthony Colville, who seemed to be more French than English in spite of his accent, was pacing the floor in front of the desk. Tragic. Absolutely tragic. The worst part is that we can do nothing. The man had only lived for a few more hours. Poor Northrop. Of course he was wrong to try and reach the pole by the route he chose. He's proven that. There's nothing you can do, Inspector, I realize. Utterly impossible to find him and his men in those trackless wastes to the North. I suppose I'd better be starting back to report this dreadful loss. We intend to try and find the party, Mr. Colville. What? Yes. Sergeant Preston and I have talked it over. But it's impossible. Where would you start looking? Suppose you explain, Sergeant. Yes, sir. You'll see this, Mr. Colville. Heaven's a scum. Oh, look again. Oh, a stone. Curious. Isn't it? The Sergeant believes he knows where it came from. I'm sure of it. We started a small island about 500 miles north of here last summer. There was no vegetation on the island at all. It was literally paved with stones just like this one. I've forgotten the Eskimo name for the island, but it means the skull in the stone. You believe that a gut came from that island? We must have been, no. You believe that's where you'll find Northrop? No, the Eskimo tribes live on islands still farther north. I mean, I've seen him. How much farther north? Oh, perhaps 200 miles. You intend to make a trip of 700 miles across the Arctic Ocean in the dead of winter? That's right. Carrying supplies? That's foolhardy. Perhaps, Mr. Colville, but the inspector agrees with me. It's the least we can do. There are valuable lives at stake. Of course. Your duty. You make me a little ashamed of myself, thinking only of the risks not of the men who are up there somewhere. I suggest six sleds, Inspector. Three full teams, each pulling two sleds, one empty on the way up. I'm going to leave the details and tally in your hand, Sergeant. Thank you, sir. I should be able to start tomorrow. I'd like to go with you. You, Mr. Colville? Is it such a strange request? These men are my friends. But you don't think we have a chance of finding them? I do now. Your confidence inspires me. And I can be useful, Sergeant. I'm hardened to the trail, and I can speak Eskimo. Don't you think you may need an interpreter? It depends. We might. Please let me come with you. Very well. I shall be ready to start whenever you are. The expedition started out from Herschel Island the following day. Three teams, two sleds hitched in tandem to each of them. One sled empty and the other loaded with supplies. Besides the sergeant who drove the first team with King and the lead, there were two constables, Johnny Tierney and Dick Farrell, and the scientist, Anthony Colville. King! At the end of a week, they reached a schooner locked in the ice. It was the polar star, Northrop Ship. And in the cabin, the sergeant found a small notebook. I can't read this, Mr. Colville. Seems to be in some sort of code. Yes, it's a form of shorthand that Northrop uses. I can read it. Notes on the voice, I suppose. Yes, here's the last entry. It stated the first of November. The men are in good spirits and we leave first thing in the morning. I shall leave this book behind and similar ones at every point where we camp for any length of time. Then in case we do not return, the record of at least part of our trip may be recovered. The future is in God's hands. I have it, Mr. Colville. Wouldn't it be better for me to keep it? After all, I'm a member of the society. Northrop's records must be considered as belonging to us. They'll form part of my report. After I've made it, you can ask the inspector for them. Very well. That's the way you wish it to be. That's the way I wish it to be. The three members of the force and the scientist headed north once more across the frozen sea. 14 hours out of every 24 they spent on the trail. Hours of constant effort, with the temperature at 50 degrees below zero. A week passed, and on the seventh day they saw the first break in the monotony of white on the horizon of black pile. Two hours later, they reached the pile of stones. There were three igloos near it. Look at the igloos, Dick. Obviously, Northrop camped here. Yes, that's my guess. And the stones were piled up to serve as a landmark. Look at them. They're all like the one the Eskimo brought back to Herschel Island. This may have been Northrop's last camp, the place where he waited for help. I doubt it. Find anything in the igloos, Dick? Nothing but empty cans. Judging from the trash, they camped here quite a while. Hey, King's digging at the base of the rock pile. What is it, boy? Is something under the rocks? Here, I'll give you a hand. Well, what is it? Another notebook, Mr. Colville. Good, Nassid. Of course. Thank you. Sergeant Preston of two constables watched the scientist as he hurriedly leaf-throwed the notebook. The expression on his face changed from interest to deep concern. Tragic. Everything seems to have gone wrong. The dogs became sick. Most of them died. Two of the men were seriously ill as well. It doesn't seem likely they'd have gone on from here, in that case. They didn't. It was from here they sent the Eskimo back. This is the last thing Northrop wrote. Our coal oil is gone. The inside of this igloos is cold as it is outside. There's no point in waiting here for help anymore. Jackson and I will have to pull the sleds. Ronson may be able to help a little. We may be able to make it back to the ship. Too bad. And now they didn't. We'll continue our story in just a moment. Boy, when that old alarm clock goes off in the morning, I'll bet there's lots of folks who wish they could go right on sleeping for 20 years. That's right, Bob. Hey, where'd you come from? Me? I don't know, but I'm an authority on sleeping. Gee, who are you? Where'd you get that funny-looking hat and old-fashioned clothes? Gosh, you look like you just stepped out of an old storybook. That's right, young fella. The name's Rip Van Winkle. Rip Van Winkle? Yes, indeed. Well, tell me, Rip. Do you ever sleep that long anymore? No, sir, not me. I like and need a good night's sleep, just like everyone else. But come on in. I'm powerful anxious to wake up. You are? You bet. I don't miss breakfast for anything. Breakfast? Yes, sir. Nothing's going to keep me from my breakfast of quaker-puffed wheat or quaker-puffed rice. Oh, you go for the cereal shot from guns. Do I? Say, I pour on the old milk a cream and add my favorite fruit, and you know what? What? There's no beaten, not eaten. That's what? Well, thanks for dropping around, Rip. And say, fellas and girls, take a tip. Quaker-puffed wheat and quaker-puffed rice are the breakfast cereal shot from guns. Yes, quaker-puffed wheat and quaker-puffed rice are shot from guns to make them crisp and tender. These premium grains are actually exploded up to eight times normal size to make them bigger and better tasting. They're shot through and through with bang-up nut-like flavor, too. What's more, wheat or rice shot from guns is good for you. Furnishes restore natural grain amounts of vitamin B1, niacin, and iron. Ask mom right now to order big red and blue packages of delicious quaker-puffed wheat and quaker-puffed rice shot from guns. Now to continue our story. After Anthony Colville had finished reading the last entry in the little notebook, the sergeant silently held out his hand for it. When the scientists had given it to him, began to leaf through the pages. I suppose the only thing to do is start back for the ship. We were not turning back. What? They're going on. At least as far as the Eskimo settlement to the north. But there's no point. We'd be wasting valuable time. If you turn back now, there's at least a chance of finding them. We're going on. Why? I demand that you tell me why. I will, but not now. I refuse to covenant such an action. I protest. That's your privilege. Feral journey, I appeal to you. Surely you must realize this is wrong. A sergeant's in command, Mr. Colville. We take our orders from him. Well, you all seem to be against me. But I can't understand. I'm quite sure that your superiors won't understand either. You can't expect me to remain silent after we return. No, Colville. But it won't do you any good to talk now. What if I insist on looking for Northrop and his men myself? You have snowshoes and will give you supplies. You want to turn back along? Well, of course not. You'll persist in your stubbornness. There's nothing I can do but go on. I'm glad you realize that. Let's clean up one of their glues, men. Get set for the night. All right, Sergeant. The following morning, the little party hit the trail again on toward the north. Another seven days of travel and they reached an Eskimo village. But there was no sign of life. Hulking! Fire! Water! Well, Sergeant, this must be the village you've been talking about. Where are your Eskimos? Hunting for seals somewhere out in the ocean. Any ideas of the exact location? Absolutely none, but King will find them for us. Won't you, boy? The sergeant found a ragged caribou mitten and one of the empty igloos, and King sniffed at it. Fine, boy. Fine. This was a familiar command, and King understood exactly what was expected of him. Now he must not only break the trail, but choose it. All set? All right. Let's go then. All right. One, King! I'm your husband! The seal camp was sited two days later, and as they neared it, the Eskimos came out of their igloos and watched their approach. There was no expression on any of their faces. The sergeant stopped his team. Okay. One hour. I take it they don't know you, Sergeant. No, I've never visited this tribe. They don't seem to be friendly, do they? No. Do you like me to talk with the headman? Yes. Ask him if he's seen any sign of Norfolk's party. I can tell you what he'll say right now. Ask him. Very well. What's he going to do, Sergeant? Talk with the Chief. It looks to me as if he'll have to start distributing presents. That can come later. They're not hanging out any welcome sign. They ought to be ready with our guns. No. They'll make any move if we see them unfriendly. Chief's shaking his fist. All will better get back here. He is. Here he comes. Quiet, King. Quiet. Just get out of here fast. What did you say? You've been having bad luck catching seals. Haven't caught one. They're starving. Now that they've seen us, they figure we're the reason. Well, we'll have to change their mind about that. It's dangerous to argue with them. I don't intend to argue. I'll just stay right here. One, King. As the sergeant walked toward the Eskimos, the Chief shouted a command to leave. The sergeant paid no attention. Instead, he walked to the entrance of one of the igloos, where a harpoon, a spearhead, a feeler, and a marker were lying. He pointed to the sealing equipment and then, shaking his own hand, cried, Naliyuk! Naliyuk was the Eskimos' god of the sea. From the sergeant's gesture, they understood he was claiming Naliyuk was his friend. Then the Chief walked over to the igloo, pointed first at the harpoon and then at the sergeant. Ha! It was an order and the implication was clear. If Naliyuk is your friend, prove it. Catch a seal. The sergeant started to gather up the equipment. You know what these were for, don't you, King? Yes, well, I'm depending on you. Come on. The sergeant and King had spent a great deal of time in Eskimo villages, and they knew all there was to know about hunting the seal. With King leading the way, they started out at a steady trot and they had left the igloos a quarter of a mile behind before the Eskimos started to follow them. Coming after this point. Yes, King knew his business. A seal must breathe occasionally, and so each one keeps a number of holes open in the ice. When the sea is freezing, he keeps bobbing up and down at certain points so that the ice has no chance to form there. He must keep these holes open and he does until the ice is sometimes six or eight feet deep all around them. In time, the snow covers the holes, supported by a thin sheet of ice through which the seal can break without effort. The snow thus hides the hole from the hunter, but a good dog can always catch the scent of the seal, and this is what King was searching for now. Any work close, boy? King wasn't stopping yet. On and on, he trotted until the igloos faded into the white distance. Evidently, they've been hunting too close to home. But at last, King stopped. Found it, eh? All right, boy. The sergeant pushed the handle of the harpoon down through the snow. Yes, the hole was there. There was open water beneath the snow. Now, the sergeant took the marker about the length and thickness of a long knitting needle. He pushed it down through the snow and into the water that filled the seal hole. When the seal rose and the marker would rise with the water, the seal displaced. Now, I'm attached to spearhead King. The sergeant prepared the harpoon. All right. Quiet, boy. You know how well they can hear. The sergeant crouched with the harpoon ready, downwind from the hole. King crouched beside him. Neither of them moved to muscle. The Eskimos stopped a short distance away. An hour passed. Another hour and still, neither the sergeant nor King moved to muscle. This was a game that required patience. The seal had many air holes and there was no telling when he might use the one beneath the sergeant's marker. It was nearly the end of the third hour when the marker rose and fell and the sergeant struck. The harpoon drove home. The starving Eskimos yelled their approval and ran toward the sergeant and King. It was several hours later. The ceremonial feasting was over and the chief had issued orders for the village to be moved closer to the new hunting ground which King had discovered. Colville congratulated the sergeant. Well, sergeant, it was certainly well done. King found the seal, I didn't. Who of you deserve credit? Now I'm sure the chief will be glad to talk with me. That won't be necessary. You mean you're finally admitting that Northrop couldn't have passed through this village? On the contrary, I found out that he did. How could you? How could you possibly have done that? The chief told me. But you don't speak Eskimo. True, I only have a few words, but they were enough. He actually told you, sergeant. You understood him? Fairly simple, Johnny. The chief was carrying a new knife, and you're only guessing. You'd better let me question him thoroughly. No thanks, Colville. I'm satisfied. Go on, King. Let the team lined up. The sergeant had nothing more to say to Colville, although the scientists continued to object, as day after day the little party continued on in the direction of the pole. At last even the constables began to get uneasy and openly questioned the wisdom of continuing, but the sergeant was sure of himself. From the way King was acting, he knew that the great dog was following a trail that someone had traveled in the same direction they were heading. Two weeks passed, however, before they saw the igloons, and still there was no telling. They went along to Eskimo. It was not until they had stopped in front of the first one and heard a feeble cry for help that the sergeant was vindicated. All right, Colville. Crawl into the igloon. That was Northrop's voice. I can't find him in all this trackless waste. I realize you didn't want me to, and I will find out why. Go on into that igloo. Johnny, Dick, unharness the teams and break out supplies. All right, sergeant. Go on. As Colville dropped to his knees and started crawling through the tunnel entrance of the igloo, King, accustomed to guarding him, followed him closely. The sergeant followed the dog. A block of snow filled the end of the tunnel. Colville pushed inside and saw the interior of the igloo. The man was lying on the floor, trying desperately to raise his head, but he was too weak. Colville buried his teeth in a grin of pure hate and leaped at the man. Colville's fingers dug into the man's throat, but King was on top of him. His teeth closed on Colville's pocket and he dragged him back. In the next instant, the sergeant was inside the igloo and had snapped a pair of handcuffs on Colville's wrists. I don't have to wait any longer now. Colville, you're under arrest in the name of the Queen. Try to prove anything against me. Just hold your tongue. You'll hear my whole case. You're Phillip Northrop, aren't you? Yes. My men... they're in the other igloos. Here, drink this. You said Colville was under arrest. That's right. I'm sergeant Preston, Northwest Mother of Police. The charge is attempted murder. Because he tried to choke me just then? Yes, but that isn't the first time he tried to kill you. What do you mean? I don't understand. Do you want anything in here, sergeant? No, take care of the men in the other igloos. Northrop, your messenger reached the post at Herschel Island. But he died shortly after he got there. Poor Antigot. How did you...? Find your trail? Well, Antigot managed to give us a clue as to where you were and we started out. We found your ship and later we found your beacon on the island. A pile of stones? Yes. In my notebook? Yes, we found it. In the direction we'd taken? No, I wasn't. Don't forget the notebook was in code. But Colville, didn't he translate it for you? He translated it all, right? He told us that you'd had it back for the ship. I'll deny that. You'll never be able to prove it. Colville, I always knew you were jealous of me. But to do that... to try and stop help from reaching us when you knew the men and I were dying. If this Mountie hadn't been so pig-headed and insisted on going out... I wasn't pig-headed, Colville. You made a mistake. What? A mistake. It was a small one, but it was enough. Do you remember the words you pretended to read from the notebook? I'll deny it. I have witnesses. You said that Northrop's last entry started with the coal oil is gone, the inside of the igloo is as cold as it is outside. We had plenty of oil when we left there. Of course. It was trying to make it seem impossible for you to go on. I realized he wasn't translating accurately, though. But how? Simple. The entry was written in ink. If the inside of your igloo had been as cold as it was outside, 50 below zero, it would have been impossible to write an ink. The ink would have been frozen. What a fool! What a fool! A smart man can be, I agree. So you knew he was lying about the entry. You didn't let him stop you. You're here. We're here. And it won't be long before we have you and your men in the hospital and Colville in jail. How about it, King? I agree with you, boy. This case is closed. In just a moment, Sergeant Preston will give you a preview of Monday's adventure. Fellows and girls, whether you're in the great rugged Yukon or here at home, you need plenty of food energy. Yes, and if you were to ask Sergeant Preston, you can bet he'd agree that a good breakfast is a mighty important source of food energy. So here's a tip. See to it that you eat a nourishing he-man's breakfast. You'll want to include a big heaping bowlful of Quakerpuff wheat or Quakerpuff rice with milk or cream and fruit. Try it. Wheat or rice shot from guns is crisp, tender, delicious. What's more, it furnishes added food values of restored natural grain amounts of vitamin B1, niacin and nion. Tomorrow, ask for Quakerpuff wheat or Quakerpuff rice in the famous big red and blue Quaker package. Listen, Monday, when Sergeant Preston and Yukon King meet the challenge of the Yukon in the case of the Turncoat Monty. I was hunting a daring robber and found one of the best men of the mounted police accused of the job. He was identified by a distinctive tattoo as well as by his face. I knew there was something strange about this accusation and in trying to learn the solution, I ran into one of my most dangerous cases. Be sure to hear this exciting adventure Monday. 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 edited by Fram Stryker. 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 Quakerpuff Wheat and Quakerpuff Rice. The breakfast cereal shot from guns. Good news for dog owners. You can now get the famous kennel bar dog feeding bowl for just $1.04 kennel ration labels. Compares with bowls worth up to $3.50 value. This heavy gauge plastic bowl is 15 inches long, serves water and food separately, won't tip over, and it's easy to clean. Get your valuable kennel bar dog feeding bowl today. Your dealer has your mailing coupon. Or send your dollar and four kennel ration labels to Kennel Ration, Chicago 77. This is J. Michael wishing you good bye, good luck, and good health from Quakerpuff Wheat and Quakerpuff Rice. So long. This is ABC, the American Broadcasting Company.