 Well as howling winds echo across the snow-covered beaches of the wild northwest, we present Sergeant Preston of the Yukon by special recording brought to you by the Quaker Oats Company, makers of Quaker Pop Wheat and Quaker Pop Rice, the delicious cereal shot from guns in cooperation with the Mutual Broadcasting System. It's Yukon King, swiftest and strongest lead dog of the Northwest, breaking the trail for Sergeant Preston of the Northwest Mounted Police, in his relentless pursuit of lawbreakers. One King on you, Husky. Gold, gold-discovered mutual, whether it freezes you of fear in the wild northwest territory, or singes you with the accurate heat of the western plains, it's all our mutual every week over most of these stations. Preston and King have escorted Major Warren, the military governor, on a tour of inspection. Their last stop was the Northwest Mounted Post, far to the north of Dawson, on the shores of the Beaufort Sea. By the time they reached there, it was late September, and the days were growing shorter. The sun was still shone brightly, but on the afternoon the Sergeant and King saw the tiny sail on the northern horizon, there was a keen edge to the wind. It drove the small boat swiftly toward the island. There seemed to be only one man. He lowered his sail in the boat near the shore, and a few minutes later, the Sergeant helped the sailor beach the tidy crack. We'll run her up as far as we can, try to be going out in under hour. How's it going? You're a Northwest Mother? Sergeant Preston, it's your service. And this is Herschel Island? That's right. I've made it. Have you got a doctor here? There's Father Anne Vaughn at the mission. You will? No. It's my friend, Ari, in the bottom of the east of here, beyond the pack ice. She was anchored off Borden Island when we left her, but the captain claimed to cruise far the north toward the ice cap to wait for the freeze. So you jumped ship and stole a boat to do it? Yes, sir. It was Ari's doing. He talked me into it. Oh? Oh. He said the polar quest was a death ship, that there was a killer aboard. And the only way to save our lives was to light up. Was he ill at the time? No, sir. He didn't take sick until he was out for a year. What did he mean, a killer aboard? He wasn't saying anything more than that. But you believed him? Yes, sir. You must have had some reason. I was willing to believe anything by that time. There are queer blokes, those explorers. Three of them in charge of the expedition. And you could see they did trust each other from the beginning. Captain Rums, they didn't lie down the law and tell him who was master. They'd have been at each other's throat. Who are these men? There's Professor Croydon and Kurt Elmuth. He's the only one who's tried that sort of thing before, a German. And an Indian named Dr. Singh. An East Indian? Aye. But educated at Oxford. Sergeant, could Father Antoine give you any idea how ill this man Harry is? When he might regain consciousness? No, sir. Oh, here's Father Antoine now. Well, Father, how's your patient? Me sure. I am sorry. The man is dead. Dead? Harry's dead? We, my son. No. What was it, Father? Exposure? Exposure! I kept him well covered. Oh, it took care of him like a baby. It is a strange case. I am not prepared to say what caused his death. Naturally, you haven't had much time to examine him. One could only be sure after an autopsy as to the exact cause. I cannot name the poison. Poison? Oui, that is certain. But nothing like arsenic or strychnine. A small poison. An exotic poison. The type that we associate with the Haris, I have only encountered with symptoms in books. The Far East, Father? India first? Oui, son. India? A slow poison. You mean Harry could have been poisoned before he left the ship? Oui. Dr. Singh. Father, are you prepared to perform an autopsy? It is impossible here. A well-equipped laboratory would be necessary. But you're sure he was poisoned. I am sure. I'd like to speak with you alongside him. Yes, sir. Harry was my best friend, Father. You don't know what it means to me. I do, my son. Looks like murder, Sergeant. Yes, sir. It would seem that the poisoning took place while a polar quest was anchored at Gordon Island. That's Northwest Territory. The case comes under our jurisdiction. That's right, sir. If you were ordered to get to the polar quest and investigate, how would you do it? We have small boats, sir. We'll go through the pack ice and against the prevailing winds. We'll never make it before the freeze-up. Might be better to wait for that. It's traveled by dog sled. Yes, but it may be an alternative. The cutter is doing with supplies. Captain Dayton isn't under my command, but he should be willing to cooperate. They'll find out. The cutter, Victoria, arrived the following day. And the major placed his problem before Captain Dayton. So you've ordered Sergeant Preston to find the polar quest maker. Yes, Captain. When I take him, you'll wait for the freeze-up and travel by dog sled. That won't be long. But when the freeze-up does come, Croydon and Elmeth and Sing will be on their way to the North Pole. I see. Perkins had the many channels to the pack ice. I should. And open CBI. I should. Captain Ramsey planned to cruise to North from Gordon Island. I'm sure the polar cap was sighted, sir. It could take a week to get there, Major. Too long? A week there and a week back. It's just about the limit. I'm sorry, sir, to board the polar quest, all I ask is... You shall have it, Sergeant, if we can find her. The Victoria left Virtual Island that same day. Her course north by northeast, across the Beaufort Sea and into the Arctic Ocean. On the second morning, she reached the pack ice. Beyond, it was a dazzling pink. It reflected the rays of the sun. Without dark glasses, it would have been impossible for the men on board the cutter to stand the glare. The Sergeant and King stood the sight, the captain on the bridge. From here, it looks to be a solid field. Call a looser. See what I'm pointing? That black line? A channel through it. Probably half mile wide. Oh. Will you take it? Yes. Luckily, it had to do north. But we won't be able to follow a straight course from now on. A lot of twisting and turning. I'll take the wheel myself when we get into it. Adventure in just a moment. Hurry, it got pencil and paper right now. There's some fun and excitement waiting for you. Can you guess what it is? It's the ballpark where everything is fun. The crowds, the eats, and what a thrill to see the players smack that ball over the fence. Come out to the game now as guest of your favorite team. If you're 12 years old or younger and can bring a paying adult like mom or dad, grab your pencil and paper. Here's how to get your free baseball ticket. Get a package of Quaker Pop Wheat or Quaker Pop Rice or Muffet Shredded Wheat. Share off the box top and send with your name and address to baseball box 5205 Chicago 77 Illinois. Details are on every ticket. Hurry, send the box top now from Quaker Pop Wheat or Pop Rice or Muffet Shredded Wheat. You get two free tickets when you send the guarantee seal from Quaker Packle 10. We'll give you the address now and again later in the program. Write it down. Baseball box 5205 Chicago 77 Illinois. Occasionally, a great bird grows high above the ship to port a stop. With captain Dayton at the helm, the cutter picked her way through the field this way and that. At times reversing her direction to reach a wide channel of open water. It was slow progress. And for 48 hours the captain never left the bridge. Then at last a dark line showed on the horizon. The open sea. Last clear water was reached. The barometer began to fall. Wind shifted to the southwest. You need some rest captain. Can't take it now. We're in for some dirty weather. No telling how bad it'll be. It was very bad. Wind continued to rise. A sleep storm hit the cutter. Within 10 minutes every exposed surface was coated with ice. It was almost impossible to see. Now in the darkness, an iceberg seemed too light. Could mean disaster. I can't stop him. He stepped a dozen times during the next 24 hours. Late ice mountain loomed above the cutter. At the end of that time every man on board had reached the limit of his endurance. But as long as the storm continues there could be no rest for anyone. Then suddenly the gale slattened. The sky cleared. The waves were still high. But once more the cutter was the mistress for her own destiny. The captain shot the sun. He calculated the ship's position. See any icebergs in the north, captain? I think I do. Yes. Solid ice is time. We'll be heading due east now, huh? We should be picking up the port at first soon. Unless... Unless what, captain? Unless the storm was too much for her. Oh. If we'd been farther north than the storm hit we would have been driven into that ice. Smash! Slowly the cutter steamed on. All hands searching for the polar quest. As darkness fell her speed was cut still more. Even though the sky was bright with stars. The sun rose and turned the birds to pink crystal. The polar cap cleared to the north. Then suddenly king raised his muzzle to the sky and howl. Butter boy. I don't see anything. There's something ahead you can be sure of that. It was a full hour before the lookout spotted the mass of the polar quest. Shockly outlined against the ice-clare to the north. Captain, watch! As the cutter steamed towards the ship captain Dayton and the sergeant studied it through their binoculars. Looks bad. Probably rammed into the ice with the storms. Still a float blown. The damage must be forward. Those men on the ice must be unloading the stars. Will that mean the ship's going down? I can't think of any other reason. Must be a hole below the water line. Well, at least... What's the matter? Look where I'm pointing. I can't see anything. He's gone now. I saw a man's head in that porthole just after the bridge. Are you sure? Positive. You run the cutter close enough for us to board it. It'll be dangerous, but we can do it. But at least one man's still on board, Captain. We have a friend to get him off, Sergeant. Move the speed ahead. The cutter ranged alongside the sinking ship. Ordinarily much higher than the cutter, the forward deck of the forward crest was now only a few feet above it. Boarding would be a simple process. It had been decided that the sergeant and George Curtin would make the first reconnaissance. And now they stood ready to climb aboard the stricken vessel. King stood beside his master. Don't worry, boy, I won't leave you behind. Each cabin is glad, George. I'm boarding there, just in back of the captain's quarters. That'd be Professor Croydon. Finish with engines! Go to it, Captain. Stand by for ten minutes. That's as much time as I can give you. That'd be plenty. All right, up you go, King. The sergeant looked at King in his arms and tossed him onto the sharply sliding forward deck of the forward crest. Sergeant and George climbed the board after him. This way, Sergeant. They compounded the way to the bridge. Then started out with Professor Croydon's cabin. As they reached it, they heard a mumble cry for help. Catch the doctor. Of course, Locke. Come on, put your weight again. Inside the cabin and out of the glare, the sergeant found it difficult to see. He followed King, who led him to the far corner. He's not only bound, he's gagged as well. I'll have you free in a moment, Doctor. There. You are not a member of the Corps. Sergeant Preston, North West Mother Police. Police. That's right, Doctor. And if you want the gory tooth, he's come here to arrest you for the murder of my pal. George Parkes. You brought him. I did. I'll give you a hand up, Doctor. How did you know that I... How did we know you killed him? No. How did you know that I was aboard? That they'd left me here. I saw your face at the portal. I managed to stand up for a minute. Then the ship lurched, and I fell down again. We can talk on board the cutter. Come along, this ship's sinking. We can't leave the Professor. The Professor? Fine. There he is in the bunk. He's desperately ill. Always and maybe. Just like Gary was. Harry Poison? You should know. He must have found out what Kurt was up to. Sergeant, Kurt Helmuth is a murderer. You must believe me. The Professor fell ill just before the storm hit us. I diagnosed Poison at once, and I searched Kurt's cabin. I found this fire. A likely story. The Professor going to die? No. I've given him an antidote. Can we move him? Yes. I'll just trap him well in the blanket. Do you want me to lend an egg? No, I've got him. Let's go. These are the facts, Sergeant. In the very beginning, Kurt Helmuth resented the society, sending the Professor and me along on this expedition. He wanted all the glory for himself. The first man to reach the North Pole. I knew that he would try to make trouble. But I didn't realize he'd go as far as murder. How'd you happen to be bound in gag? After we hit the ice, I wanted the Professor's cabin to see if he was all right. Someone entered the cabin behind me, hit me over the head. When I regained consciousness, I was as you found me. Sergeant. What? There's Helmuth now, standing on the edge of the ice. He has a rifle, he's going to shoot. The bleeding Dutchman's trying to kill us. Stop him from getting on board the cutter at any rate. Actions speak louder than words. This certainly proves your story, don't you? That man must be insane. I agree. It doesn't seem to affect his shooting. Sergeant protected the unconscious Professor with his body as he crouched low behind the railing. George and the doctor were pinned down as well. Then another volley of shots rang out. The teams came from the deck of the cutter. The Sergeant raised his head. He could no longer see Helmuth. Forward deck of the full request was now lower than the cutters. Captain Dayton edged his trim craft between the ship and the ice field and shouted for the Sergeant to come aboard. He can't make it out, Sergeant. Come on. The Professor was lifted aboard the cutter. The doctor followed him, then the sailor. But the Sergeant suddenly realized that the King was missing. The King was still up on the quarter deck just outside the captain's cabin. Satan roared at the Sergeant. That checker's standing on will be watched in a minute. Very, very good. King, come here. King wanted to obey his master's command and run to his side. But he knew there was something inside the cabin the Sergeant should investigate. And he stood his ground. His perseverance was rewarded. The Sergeant started up from the lower deck and went over it. What a good boy. King's back planically at the cabin door. The Sergeant opened it. The Captain ramped. He was lying on the floor. There was a dark stain on his vodka. The Sergeant felt beside him. Still alive, King. The Sergeant lifted the captain in his arms and hurried out to the bridge. The full request was sinking fast now. The cutter was about 20 yards away. The water kept up toward the bridge. The cutter maneuvered closer. A few seconds more and the ship turned to the bottom. Reached out from the cutter's deck for the Sergeant's burden. Oh, it cut the door open. The Sergeant lifted King to the cutter's deck and then followed him. The cutter pulled away. The stern of the poor quest reared high in the air. It hung their motion for a second and then the ship dove to the bottom. The ship was sinking fast. Then the vacuum filled. The sea was calm once more. Captain Ramsay was taken to Captain Dayton's cabin. And Dr. Singh dressed his wound. Well, Doctor? I can't say. Touch and go. I think he'll pull through, but he won't be able to talk for days. Who shot him? After what Helmeth tried to do to us, we can make a pretty fair guess. Of course it was Helmeth. He seems to be in complete command. But I can't understand as to where the ship's crew should be taken orders from him. They have no choice. Is one man against many? Oh no, he is not alone. He had six men on board who were to travel to the pool with us. Helmeth hired them. They were all well armed. Obviously, they held guns on them. A ball player in person? Maybe you've seen his picture on the sport page or on the screen. But what a thrill to see him in person, right there on the ballpark with the crowds cheering and yelling. And now's your chance. Come on out to the ball game as guests of your favorite team. You can get in the park free. If you are 12 years old or younger, a mom or dad, a paying adult, to get your free ticket, just get a package of Quaker Puffed Wheat or Quaker Puffed Rice or Muffet Shredded Wheat. Tear off the box top and send with your name and address to baseball box 5205 Chicago 77 Illinois. Details are right on the ticket. And boy, what fun you'll have. What excitement. Free kids, for each free baseball ticket, send a box top from Quaker Puffed Wheat or Puffed Rice or Muffet Shredded Wheat. Or get two free tickets sending the guarantee seal from Quaker Pakotan. Write down the address so you won't forget. Baseball box 5205. As soon as doctors gave them a complete shield, a small boat was lowered from the cutter. Sergeant and six men started for the ice field. King stood in the bow of the boat searching the bitter wind. They near the icy ground. There was a large fire blazing half a mile to the north. And now another one at the edge of the water. The ice which from a distance seemed level on close inspection was seen to be spotted with hummets and cut by crevasses. One of the small icy hills rose sheer from the water's edge. And it was behind this the sergeant and his men landed. Then staying as close to the ground as they could, they started for the main camp where helmets were directing the work. They crawled closer and closer to the glare of the campfire. And then suddenly there were shots from the water's edge. Hey, hey! There's a boat here. They're landing. Found our boat. There we are, Kurt. At the sound of the sergeant's voice, Kurt fired violently into the darkness. The sergeant fired only once. You only in charges? Stay here. The shots of the wounded Kurt struck confusion to the camp. Kurt was clutching his right arm. But before his men knew what was happening, the sergeant reached his side and held him tightly. In just a moment with a word about our next exciting adventure. What do you want most in a car? Economy, pride, or personal safety? Well, if you're a good driver, you can have all three with an automobile in tip-top condition. A car kept in good running condition is more economical than one that isn't. And needless to say, your personal safety is wrapped up in how well your car responds mechanically. This month, we are placing special emphasis on vehicle maintenance, which should be a year-round job. Here are the points that require careful examination. Brakes, headlights, rear and stop lights, tires, wheel alignment, exhaust system and muffler, windshield wipers, all glass, the horn, and the rear-view mirror. When driving, be sure you can see, steer and stop safely. It takes two to do this, you and your car. Your life and the lives of your passengers are only as safe as your car. Get a thorough checkup today. This message is brought to you as a public service. Sergeant, a minor named Frank Bryan has just arrived in town. He says his partner died of pneumonia while they were working their claim out on the wilderness. But his story sounds suspicious. You think he may have killed his partner, sir? I don't know what to think, Sergeant. I want you to go out to their claim and find out the truth. Right, sir. I'll start immediately. Hold on. Is Frank Bryan's partner really dead? And if so, did Bryan kill him? If it's a case of murder, the Sergeant may find himself facing death before he gets to the bottom of the mystery. Sergeant Preston of the Yukon is brought to you Monday through Friday by the Quaker Oats Company, makers of Quaker Pop Wheat, Quaker Pop Rice, the delicious cereals shot from guns in cooperation with the Mutual Broadcasting System. It is J. Michael wishing you good bye, good luck, and good health from Quaker Pop Wheat and Quaker Pop Rice. So long. This is Mutual, radio network for all America.