 The challenge of the Yukon. I'm king! I'm you malamute! 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 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. Suzanne Barrow Suzanne Barrow was a singer in one of the many cafes in Wickerton, a large settlement that was an oasis of civilization in the lonely, ice-bound North country. Men who applauded her would have been surprised had they seen her talking to Walter Manning as she stood before her mirror in her dressing room pinning an artificial flower to the material of her gown. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips were pressed to a straight thin line revealing the stark selfishness that was her predominant characteristic. You sure look like a million dollars in that outfit, baby. Yeah, what good does it do me? Stuck in this for a second, please. Oh, I don't know. I was in here last night. That dust them prospectors was thrown at your feet looked like the real McCoy to me. Oh, that. All we need is just one good kill. As soon as we get that, we'll be on the first steamer for the States. Well, how's Jeff Stevens come along? Oh, all right. He follows me around like a puppy. His brother's got half interest in the claim. Well, half interest is better than none. Just remember that. I hear Malora Conklin is trying to steer him away from spending his time in cafes. I should worry about a minister's daughter. Well, my public and Mr. Stevens await me. And you, my friend, had better start checking steamers out of this place. I'm not spending another six months up here. A short time later, Suzanne sat at a table in the corner of the cafe facing a young prospector. This is no place for you, Suzanne. No. Singing in a cafe. Well, not that I think there's anything wrong with it, but it still isn't the right... I have a living to make, Jeff. I have a voice so I sing, singing for my supper. But you're right. This is no place for me. Suzanne, I love you. And the first time I saw you, I haven't been able to think of anyone but you. Marry me. Marry me and I'll do everything I can to make you happy. Jeff, I... You do care a little about me, don't you? Of course, but... But what? But I can't go on living up here in this wilderness. I want something from life, Jeff. Clothes. A decent home. My tastes are extravagant. Well, once Fred and I strike the vein... It may be a long time before you strike it. If you are the sole owner of the claim... Well, Fred and I have been working it together for months. You know that. And when it starts paying off, there'll be enough in it to make us both rich men. Yes, if you want to wait that long. I don't, Jeff. I'm sick of this country. I want to get out of it. I don't see what difference it would make if I were the only owner of the claim. It would make a difference to me. Well, it might be worth waiting then. Sergeant Preston arrived in Wickerton a few days later. And with the great dog King, he walked among the tables in the Palace Café, talking to the men who looked forward to his rare visits. Suzanne, meanwhile, turned to look at the man standing at the door of her dressing room. Well, baby, everything's working out fine. How about handing it over? How about handing what over? The will. Everybody in town knows Jeff signed his share of the claim over to you. In case of his, um... Well, this is a country where a lot of accidents could happen. Walter! Come on, what are you stalling for? You aren't planning to pull a fast one on me, are you, baby? Sit down. Yeah. Each of those boys is jealous of the other. Jeff thinks Fred's trying to get you away from him. And Fred thinks Jeff ain't good enough for you. You sure handled this smart, honey. It's funny, too. Fred and Melora Conklin were as good as engaged. So she thinks she's got a right to tell both of them what to do. You... What's the matter? Walter, I've been wanting to talk to you. I... Well, I changed my mind about all this. You what? I said I'd changed my mind. To destroy the will, Jeff turned over to me. You don't know what you're saying. I do know what I'm saying. You're right about the town talking because of Jeff and Fred. I started it all. I started it with lies. Playing them off against each other. I didn't realize what I was doing. What do you mean you didn't know what you were doing? You knew as well as I did. You knew just as well as I did. Walter, I never knew what it meant to be in love with someone. I've never in my life cared for anyone but myself. I don't get it. It's very simple. I'm through with this scheming and plotting. I'm in love with Jeff. No. Oh, you're kidding. I wish I were. Oh, I see. So you think you'll just back out of this now, huh? Yes, and I'm tearing this up. Right now. No, no, you don't. I'll take that. Walter, my ring! I'll just keep this. And whether you like it or not, baby, you're going ahead according to plan. I won't and you can't do a thing with that will without me. You're in love with him, huh? It'd be too bad, wouldn't it, if I were to tell him just how we planned this out? How you led Fred on turning him against Jeff. You wouldn't dare. You know I would. And I will unless you go through with this. You think he'd still be in love with it if he knew? You think he'd still be the same? No, no, no, stop! Stop! It was several hours later. Sergeant Preston was leaving the Palace Café when Jeff Stevens hurried past the Mountie and the Dog King. Hello there, Jeff. Oh, hi, Sergeant. I can't stop the talk now. Suzanne left a note saying she's out of Conklin's cabin. Malor is sick, so I'm supposed to go out and bring Suzanne back to town. Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Well, I won't keep you. Well, that Reverend Conklin's plenty worried. Malor is the apple of his eye. I'll see you later, Sergeant. Jeff drove his team hard, and he was grateful for the moonlight for the snow-covered trail overlooked oppressiveness. A man who traveled those miles on a dark night might easily plunge to his death should his dogs veer too much to one side. Coming to a turn in the trail, Jeff breathed easier. And then he urged his team to a faster pace. Suddenly ahead of him, Jeff saw a man outline sharply against the snow. A man held a rifle, poised, ready to fire, and even before his finger squeezed the trigger, as Jeff's dogs raced on, the young man recognized the gunman. Hey, I'm Jeff Stevens. Walter Manning stooped over the man who'd dropped to the ground. Searching Jeff's pockets, he found the note he'd left at the cafe. Then, with the note in his own pocket, he urged Stevens' dogs on a writerless team and returned to his own sled to head back for town. As Manning's team rounded the turn in the trail, his eyes widened, for there was no mistaking the man whose sled approached along a narrow trail. It was Sergeant Preston, and Malora Conklin rode with the mountain. Hello there, Sergeant Preston. Hi, Walter. Stop your dogs, will you? Oh, you melancholy. Walter, did you see anything of Jeff? And Stevens? No. Why? Because, Mr. Manning, Sergeant Preston told me that Jeff said I was sick, and he was to go out to our cabin to pick up Suzanne. Suzanne was supposed to be staying with me, but as you can see, I'm perfectly well, and this is obviously some sort of a scheme of that. Oh, wait a minute, Miss Conklin. What made Jeff say that? Who told him Suzanne was at your cabin? He said she left a note for him at the cafe. Oh, somebody must have been playing a joke on him. Everyone knows he's in love with Suzanne. It's possible that Fred wanted to see you tonight. And he left a note there to make sure Jeff would be out of the way. Fred wouldn't do such a thing. Oh, uh, I, uh... may have said something wrong. Sorry, Miss Conklin. But if Jeff was coming out this way, he must have taken some sort of a shortcut. I took the trail in from Melbourne and didn't see a sign of him. Well, if you came in from Melbourne, it's possible you'd miss him. The trail turns off. I suppose this is Miss Verrill's idea of a good joke. Well, I'm sorry if I've inconvenienced you, Sergeant. If you're going back to town, I'll go with you. I was planning to stay with some friends anyway. As his master stood talking, King stood quietly beside him. But the clear Yukon air brought a scent to the Great Malamute's keen nostrils. The scent of human blood. Painly, he tried to attract Preston's attention. Then he raced forward alone, determined to discover for himself what was beyond the turn in the trail. Weakened by loss of blood, Jeff Stevens pulled himself slowly through the snow. He struggled to his feet only to fall. His sense of direction momentarily suspended. The dog. Help must be near. If I can only help. Dimly conscious of the dog's fang sinking into the material of his mackinaw then tugging and pulling, the man didn't know for how long or how far the Malamute had dragged him through the snow. Staggering, he half walked, half crawled. Leaning heavily on the dog who had found him. Meanwhile, back on the trail, Sergeant Preston, Malora Conklin and Walter Manning had been joined by two newcomers. Malora turned furiously as she saw Suzanne walking toward them, followed by Fred Stevens. I suppose, Miss Verrill, you're quite surprised to see me well and healthy. If the note you left for Jeff was an example of what you think amusing. Please, Suzanne told me that when Jeff read the note he told the bartender you were sick. Sergeant Preston said you wrote the note, Miss Verrill. That's odd. I wrote no note. Sam said all Jeff told him was that you were ill. I told Fred and he insisted on rushing right out to your cabin. I thought there might be something I could do so I came with him. Then that's why she's with you, Fred. Of course. When I heard that, I... I couldn't think of anyone but you. Then the question is, who wrote the note? You say you didn't write it, Miss Verrill. Jeff told me you had. Walter knew nothing about it, but when I told him, he thought perhaps Fred did it as a joke. Me? Walter, are you sure you know nothing about this? Of course not, Suzanne. What in the world? Sergeant, it's King. Yes, there's a man with him. King, King old boy. Sergeant. Sergeant Chest, let me help you. Now where's the wound? Chest. Manning. Don't try to talk. I've got my medical kit on the sled. We'll fix you up. Oh, Jeff. I'm all right, Suzanne. So... So you didn't know anything about this, Walter? The note was just a joke. All right, Molly. So this is it, hmm? Oh, he's got a gun. I'm going to use it too, Miss Conklin. This time I'll finish when I start it. Now look here, Manning. Jeff, Fred, he means business. You're a smart man, Sergeant. Too bad I have to get you out of the way, too. I had it all planned out. The only man who knew I left the note for Jeff was the bartender. I figured once I got him out of the way... You murderer. Shut up. His gun ain't loaded with cotton. Still holding a wounded man in his arms, Sergeant Preston faced the muzzle of the gun. The Mountie was helpless. But King, bearing his fangs, advanced slowly on the man who held a revolver on his master. Manning was too absorbed in the group facing him to notice the dog. And as he turned his head, King was already crouched to spring. The malamute's eyes glowed fiercely, his fur bristling over his muscles. He was on Manning's right, and as the man swung the gun to fire at the dog, he sprang back. For King had already jumped. Look out! Look out! Hey, what the... Help! Easy. Easy moral, honey. He had it coming to him, I guess. Did he, uh... Did he get King before he fell, Sergeant? No. No, he missed. Ah, you saved our lives, boy. Fall like that. Miss Verrill, hand me that medical kit in my pack, please. Sergeant, is Jeff all right? Well, sure I am. Can't kill a Stephen, Suzanne. You're mighty lucky, Jeff. Another quarter of an inch, and you'd have been gone. Two attempts on your life in one night, Jeff. If that's the sort of luck you Stevens have, I'd certainly like a share of it. Well, there's... There's only one way you can get it, honey. You, uh... You have to marry into the family. Miss Suzanne Stevens. Oh, Jeff. Darling, my friend, I believe she really means it. I think she loves Jeff. Maybe we can have a double wedding. What do you think of the idea? Well, I think I'd like it very much. Don't forget, King and I rate an invitation. Yes, fellow? Thanks to you, the case is closed. These copyrighted dramas originate in the studios of WXYZ Detroit, and all characters, names, places, and incidents used are fictitious. They're sent to you each week at this same time and originate in our transcription studios. Henry Stamball...