 The Challenge of the Yukon. The Wonder Dog King, Switzerland's strongest of Esmoli 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. As Sergeant Preston walked along Stove Five City's main street, an icy wind whipped against the mountain and the great dog walking beside him. Passing the flame building that was the still-toothed saloon, the policemen saw a tall, lanky prox factor approaching. Hello there, sir. Hi, Sergeant. Hey, this wind's enough to lift a man clear off his feet. How are you, King, old fella? Well, I see you've got Marty with you. Sure. Me and Marty are pals, huh, boy? He's a smart dog, Sergeant. I always say he's the best in the Yukon. Then there are folks that insist he's second best. I'll agree. King's a handsome-looking animal. How's the claim coming? Fine. Sometimes I think I'm the luckiest man alive. Right now, I've got a pocket full of dust. And you're heading for a poker game, right? How'd you know? Well, let's just say I guessed. You know, one of these days, Tony's going to lose your shirt. Oh, not me, Sergeant. Well, that's what they all say. But good luck anyway. Thanks. See you later. Drop into the saloon and watch me clean out the boy's pocket. At first, Tom McShane showed signs of keeping his threat to clean out the boy's pockets. Then slowly and steadily, that illogical thing called luck turned against him. He lost what he'd won. He lost the dust he carried into the chill-coot. Well, McShane, you're ready to quit? No. No, I'm not quitting. My luck will change, Stets. Yeah? What are you putting in this time? I'll bet the lady luck claim against that 5,000 you got in front of you. Looks like you lose. Wait a minute. I'm not through yet. No? The only thing you got left, McShane, is the clothes on your back and the dog sitting beside your chair. That's right, Tom. You still got Marty. Oh, no, not Marty. You never know. Your luck can change, kid. What do you expect me to do? Play the lady luck against his dog? Ain't no reason why he shouldn't. You got more now than you walked in here with. You've done good looking, dog, for my money. What about it, McShane? All right, Stets, I'll play this hand for Marty. Here's my share. Sure do, Stets. It was an old story in the Yukon where stakes were high and a fabulously wealthy prospector could lose over a deck of cards that gold he'd patiently worked from the rich soil over a period of weeks, sometimes months. Tom McShane realized he'd not only lost the lady luck claim, but his dog, Marty, as well. And the realization was followed by a vessel of ache that burned his eyes like unshed tears. When he stood and walked quickly toward the door, Marty followed him. Hey, there goes your dog, Stets. Oh, no, he ain't. Come back here, you mutt. Don't ever call that dog a mutt, Stets, you hear? He's mine now, and I'll call him when I like. Oh! I don't know why I kid it, boy, but you and me can't be together anymore, Stan. Maybe, maybe I'll be able to scrape up enough money and I'll buy you back. I'd better grab hold of this collar. So he makes up his mind there ain't much can hold him back. Come on, Stets. Well, he must change hands once tonight. I'm the only chief I can make it twice. I'm holding him, McShane. Come on, Marty. Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! The next morning, when Sergeant Preston went to see Tom McShane, he found him in a friend's cabin where he'd been staying while he remained in Silphite City. Have I heard all about it, Tom? Yeah. Marty came back last night? Stets just came and got him. The funny thing, a man can switch his loyalties or forget, but a dog never does. How do you think I feel? Losing the lady luck was bad enough, but... But Marty... Well, Stets didn't hold the lady luck very long. Brad told me that shortly after you got out of the game he won the claim from alone. A good bit of the dust he'd accumulated. He'll never touch another card as long as I live. I've learned my lesson, Sergeant. The loan was in a pretty mean humor. He always is when he starts losing. Took it out on Marty when he found him here this morning. Yes, I think you have learned your lesson, Tom. You know, gambling had begun to be an obsession with you. I watched it grow, and I knew it would take something important to make you stop. You've learned your lesson, and you'll miss Marty. But that's only half of it. Marty's going to bear the other half. And I'm afraid it won't be easy. And Sergeant Preston was right. As long as Tom McShane stayed in Stove 5 City, Marty returned to his master. No matter what punishment he received from Studs Malone, the dog's faithfulness never went. Finally, when he saw the hopelessness of the situation, Tom left the small settlement. And a short time later, Malone also left, taking with him the dog he'd won in the poker games. Malone had had much bad luck since that night at Chilcoot Saloon. But though he lost everything else, he had a good dog, and he knew he'd need him. And as the months passed, Studs Malone taught the dog Marty the things that would make him hated by men who travel lonely Yukon trails. The dog performed his task half-heartedly, knowing that this man would deal with him mercilessly if he refused. At a camp along an isolated trail shortly before darkness, two croppers sat beside the fire. What was that? I heard something. I'll see what it is. Well, I'll be... Sam, somebody's been into the ration. Right, my gully. Took all the meat we had. Look, you're on the trail over there. The dog! Boy, that dirty fawn like a thief! Ah, you missed him. Must have been that outlaw dog we heard about in three forks. I'd like to catch up with that much just once. I'd fill him so full of fuckshot he'd only be put the paperweight. Three forks, the head of the Law and Order Commission, talked to Sergeant Preston. With the Mountie was Tom McChain, who stood silently listening to the conversation. We have definite information, Sergeant, but the dog is in this vicinity. The option I've given you is one we've gotten from several men who had misfortune to meet him. I know the dog. We'll set out immediately. Well, if you don't mind, I'll get a few of my men together and we'll go with you. Stealing food in the Yukon is a serious offense. And in this case, it's led to the death of two prospectors. Sergeant Preston and Tom McChain, with a small group of men, set out to locate the outlaw dog and his master. King ran far ahead of the Mountie's team, parsing at intervals to let the sled catch up with him. At one point along the trail, a policeman called a halt while he examined what had apparently been a campsite. A man of the Law and Order Commission gathered to look at tracks. It was then that King noticed Tom McChain's sled pulling away from the rest of them. I see him, fella. Let him go. And the hunt, he's trying to do some private detective work. I think he's chosen the right direction. We'll start after him in a few minutes. Tom McChain approached the camp near the edge of Blackstone Creek quietly. He noticed the ledge jutting out over the creek just a few yards away from a stretch of rapids. It was there Studs Malone Studs, when the young man confronted him. Well, Studs, it seems we meet again. Who's that? Well, that's my friend, that prize poker player. Don't reach for your gun. I've got you covered. Yeah, so I noticed. What do you got in your mind, McChain? We're smarty. That's it, huh? Well, he's out on a little job. He's looking fresh air. Why, you... You made him the hunted creature that he is. That dog didn't have a bad streak in him. No, and he learned pretty fast. You ain't gonna fire that gun, McChain, and you'll know it. No. I'm not gonna kill you, Studs. I oughta, but I won't. I'll just stay here and keep you... Get away from me! Get away from me! You what? I'll take that gun! Now you don't dare shoot! As the two men fought, Studs Malone edged his opponent nearer and nearer to the creek. Beneath them, under the ledge, the waters rushed toward the rapids. Malone had the advantage of greater strength. But Tom McChain reduced to admit defeat. Every blow must count. It was then he heard a dog raking toward them through the timber. Marty! That's all I need! Now, you did me a good turn that time, Mutt, when he turned to look for you. Kinda hard to swim, weighted down with a mac and ointment. You'll be pulled over the rapids, McChain, before you... Before the man could finish the sentence, he saw Marty leap over the ledge. The dog swam toward Tom McChain. All right, Studs, put up your hands. Yes! You know this man from the description hips? Yes, yes, of course. Where's the dog? Hey, look there! Out on the creek, over top of the rapids. There's a man in there, he'll be down. There's possibly a log, Stephen. Lots of them come down the creek and get smashed going over the rapids. Put the handcuffs on this man, they will be... It is a man. It's your friend McChain, Marty. He fell over the ledge. But there's the dog. That's Marty. Marty's pulling him away from the rapids. That's the one I saw myself. The great dog King stood on the ledge. His eyes flew to the two figures caught McChain's current. The spray from the rapids rose slightly beyond them. It was a mad swirl of water, and the men watching held their breath. And then, it happened. King thought first, the log caught McChain zigzagging crazily in the chopping water. As Marty swam, he struggled desperately. The log seemed about to skirt the man of his rescuer. When it veered sharply, striking the dog's head and knocking him since... Almost instantly, King hit the icy water. He stopped McChain, but he fought it, struggling to reach the man who was practically trying to keep it close. And as Tom reached out to grab King, the great dog felt the impact as Marty was helplessly thrown against his master. Gently knowing what he did, the man put one arm around his dog's neck, but with the other, he held fast to King, and King knew he must drain every ounce of strength to pull his double burden to safety. Halfway toward the rocks where questions stood, Marty began to swim. King battled the current to pull them away from the rapids. And now, they pulled slowly, but steadily toward the ledge. King, you, champ, get the dog's feet off the cliff. That's it, fellas. Keep pulling, boys. It was a short time later, and on the ledge close to question feet, King waved off him. He felt his strength coming back to him, and he looked up to find Marty, a heap of wet, straggly fur laying close to his master. A dog's nose beside the face of the man he loved. Well, I still think he ought to be shot. He's alive thanks to your dog, Sergeant. Dealing food in the Yukon, same as murder. Oh, no. Don't let him. Jim, I want to ask you a question. What would be your verdict toward a man who was basically good or fell into bad company and became an outlaw? And then what would you say if you saw that man making an attempt to save a life at the cost of his own? Oh, I'd say he ought to... Well, he ought to be given more than a fair chance. Exactly. You saw this dog make a brave attempt to save Tom's life. There's the criminal. Studger under arrest. And as for Marty, he's going to be paroled, Tom. Sergeant, I... The Mounties saw the gratitude in Tom McShane's eyes, and he thought, too, the unquestioning devotion shining in the eyes of the dog when he looked at his master. Preston turned and looked at King. And as he felt the great dog's warm tongue touch his hands, he appreciated the bond that existed between this man and Marty. That's all right, Tom. I understand. Yes, fellow? You've done a great job. The case is closed. These copyrighted dramas originate in the studios of WXY's The Detroit. And all characters, names, places, and incidents used are fictitious. That's sent to you each week at the same time. Jack McCarthy.