 The challenge of the Yukon It's King, swiftest and strongest lead dog of the North country, blazing the trail for sergeant Preston of the Northwest Montet police in his relentless pursuit of lawbreakers. Un-King! Un-New-History! Gold, gold discovered in the Yukon, a stampede to the Klondike in the greedy race for riches. Now back to the days of the gold rush, when sergeant Preston and his wonder dog King battle through storm and snow to preserve law and order as they met the challenge of the Yukon. Darkness was falling as sergeant Preston drove his dog team along the trails of Dawson City. Suddenly King, the Mounties great lead dog, slowed down and his ears pricked forward as he raised his head and looked to the left through the trees. What's wrong, King? Push! We've no time to stop! Hello, hello Huskies! What's wrong, King? What? It's a dog. Sounds like he's in trouble. Stay here, King. Stay with the team. Well, hello there fellow, what's wrong? Oh, your foot's caught in the trap. Steady, Val boy. You'll have it out in just a minute. Steady there. All right, South. That's a bad cut. Guess I'll have to tell you on my sled, fellow. You're going to be a passenger. Here. I'll carry you over to the sled. Sergeant Preston, with the old dog on his sled, drove toward Dawson. As he approached the town, he saw lights in the small cabin of Father McClane, who lived next to the mission on the outskirts of the community. He halted his team. Good evening, Father McClane. Well, hello, Sergeant. Come in, come in. Father, I have a dog on my sled. He was caught in a trap. His foot's badly injured, and I don't want to let him suffer any longer than necessary. It's painful for him to ride over this rough trail. Well, bring him right in here, Sergeant. We'll put him beside the fire, and I can help you with it. Thanks, Father. I knew that's what you'd say. Can you carry him along? Yes, he's not very heavy. Come on, old fellow. We're going in here. Just stay here with the team, King. Easy now. Here's an old blanket towel. Put it here beside the fire. There you are, fellow. I'll bring the lamp over so we can get a better look at it. Now, hold still, boy. Let's have a look at that foot. Here we are. Well, you've looked it pretty clean, haven't you? Well, you've looked it pretty clean, haven't you? Looks as if he'll lose a couple of tunes. Yes, I'm afraid so. You'll be able to use this paw, though, I think. I have a bad limp. He's quite an old dog, isn't he? Yes, and very gentle. He's part shepherd. Oh, fellow. Why don't you let him stay here with me, Sergeant? Would you like to keep him, Father? Yes. He'll be a nice pet. Won't you, Shepherd? Well, he's wagging his tail. Maybe he'll like it. I'll get him some food. I had some venison leftover from something. Well, Shepherd, you're a lucky dog. Your father, McLean, is going to a doctor. You'll have a good home. Well, he has some food with me. There you are, boy. You know, Father, I think all he needs is food and good care. He'll be all right now. Oh, have a cup of tea with me, Sergeant. He's all ready. Thank you, Father. Thank you. Thank you. Sit down at the table while I get him. All right. Dev seems to be resting nicely now, Father. Poor fellow. He was half-frozen. Oh, he'll feel much better after a good night's sleep. Good night. Sergeant, I wanted to talk to you about Pete Aime's nephew. Young Bob, you mean? Yes. Pete came to talk to me about him yesterday. He's quite a problem, I think. Yes, he is, Father. He ran lots of trouble with Bob. He drinks and gambles, keeps bad company, and gets into fights. I've tried to be easy on him because of his uncle. Pete's a fine man. Pete is one of my closest friends. I thought perhaps you and I could do something with young Bob. Probably talk to him and get him to make a man of himself. I know that he keeps bad company. It is very hard to handle. The subject of the conversation, young Bob Aime's, was sitting in the back room of the gold-nugget cafe talking to Nick Ransom, a swarthy man with an ugly scar that cut down from his eye to the top of his whiskers. Bob's shallow face looked frightened, and he bit the lower lip of his weak mouth nervously. I tell you, Nick, I can't pay you yet. I haven't got the money. Listen, you little punk. I know you have the richest uncle in Dawson. You told me that yourself when you started the game with him. But I can't get the money from him. Last time he paid a debt for me, he said he'd never do it again. I even had to promise him I'd stop gambling to get him to pay us. Then you didn't have any business gambling with me. Listen, nobody welches on Nick Ransom. But Nick, I didn't say I wasn't going to pay you. Oh, yes, I'm not welching. I'll get them, Bob. I'll get the money somehow, honestly. Just give me time. I gave you two weeks, didn't I? Yeah, but need a little more. You know, I'll pay you my uncle's rich. He hasn't any relatives besides me, so my credit's good. You might take it into his head to leave the Yukon. I don't know why he stays around here with a fortune anyway. He'll never leave the Yukon. Never leave the Yukon? Does he still own that cabin near his old plane? Sure. He'll never sell it. He won't let anyone live in it. He's just keeping it the way it was when he made his lucky strike. Does he ever go there? Sure. He likes a place. He's crazy about hunting. He stays in the old cabin overnight. He's got some fool notion about making himself remember the days when he was poor, so he won't get too proud. Is there a regular trail through the woods that he uses to get there? Yeah, there's a trail. Say, why are you asking all these questions? He won't give up that place. If that's what you're getting at... I don't want the place. You say there isn't anybody living there. Not very near. Some half-starved Indians have to steam away. Why? If your uncle could have an accident on one of his trips to the cabin, it would be pretty nice for you, wouldn't it? What? I don't know what you mean. If something happened to him so that he didn't come home for a few days, nobody'd worry about him, would they? No. Everybody knows how he likes to go up there alone, but he never had an accident. He knows those woods with his eyes shut. For that very reason, he might be a little careless. I don't know what you're getting at. I'm figuring a way for both of us to get our money. Fast. I mean, plan an accident? Of course. If I had help, you'll have to pay me a little more than you owe me now. But we could settle that later. Well, I couldn't do that. I mean, plan to do something to him. I couldn't get away. I'd have to stay here till the will is ready. I said it would be an accident. But the Mardis, they'd find out. The next time you go to the cabin hunt and take me with you, we'll fix a bear trap right in the middle of the trail to the cabin. We'll fix it so that when your uncle goes there, he won't be able to miss it. You mean, just leave him there, caught in a trap to die? He won't be able to move, and he'll freeze to death in a few hours. But I get blamed for setting the trap. Listen to me, you fool. We can cover that part of it. Well, say the Indians were trying to catch a bear up there, and you let them have the bear trap. They wouldn't believe it. I'd be with you, wouldn't I? I'd be a witness if anyone asked about it. I could even tell some of the boys about the Indians barring the trap before your uncle goes near the place. Right. It might work. Nobody'd go looking for Uncle Pete because I wouldn't say gone there. Those Indians never come near the place. And when we're sure he isn't coming back, you can get a molly to help you look for him and pretend you're worried. No, those mollies... I can't do it, Nick. I can't go through with it. Listen, I want my money. If you don't go through with this, you sniveling little collard, I'll peel that yellow streak right off your back. And I'll start right now. Nick, no, no, please don't, Nick. I'll do anything you say. Please don't hit me, Nick. All right. That's more like it. Now, tomorrow, you and me are going hunting. And I'm sticking with you to see that you don't forget. It was a few days later that Sergeant Preston went to Pete Ames' house in Dawson. Old Pete had spared no money to give himself all the luxuries possible in the North Country. Sergeant Preston sank into a big chair before the glowing fire, while King found his spot for himself on the bare floor in the corner. I was talking to Father McClain the other night, Pete. He said you were worried about your nephew, Bob. I am worried, Sergeant, and you know I have a right to be. I wanted to talk to you about him, because you know what a lot of trouble he's been. If you want my advice, Pete, I'd make Bob work for his living. Put him on his own right here in Dawson and don't give him a dime until he finds out the value of money. You've got to be a hard thing for me to do, Sergeant. I couldn't see him stile. The people like Bob don't stile, Pete. They always look out for themselves. It's the only thing that'll make a man of him. Well, I'll have to think about it. Going up to my cabin on Fox Creek tomorrow, I can think better when I'm up there. But, Pete, it might be dangerous out there for you alone. If anything should happen to you, there wouldn't be anyone to help you. Well, you don't have to worry this time, Sergeant. Father McLean is going up to visit that Indian tribe about two miles from my cabin in a couple of days. He'll drop in on me and I'll probably come back with him. Well, I'm glad to hear that. Otherwise, King and I would have paid you a visit, invited or not. Darkness had overtaken Father McLean and his dog, Shep, as they made their way to Pete Ames' old cabin from the Indian village two days later. As they approached, the priest spoke aloud to the dog as he limped beside him. Well, now this is funny. Pete says he'd be here. There's no light in the cabin. Well, Shep, I guess we'd better spend the night here anyway. It's too far back to town. We'll go in and start the fire. Come on. What's wrong, Shep? What are you barking at? Well, here's it. Did you hear something? Be still, boy. You did hear something. I hear it, too. Someone's in trouble. I'm coming! I'm coming! Is it you? Oh, Pete, what's wrong? What happened? My foot caught in a trap. In a trap? But how... Wait, I've got matches here. I've been here for hours. Well, it's a bear trap. It's your leg. Wait, I'll get you down. Now, hang on, man. There you're free. I'll carry you to the cabin. Thank you, Shep, and help me to bring him back to life the way I did you. Father McClean had bound up Pete's leg and bent over him anxiously as he forced him to drink a cup of hot broth. Pete, weak with shock and exhaustion, lay on a cot. His face strained and white in the lamp light. Just try and finish this, Pete. Just one more, Swallow. Thanks, Father. Now you must try and sleep. I'm going to have to leave you alone here with Shep while I go to town for a doctor. You must have one as soon as possible. Your leg, it's... I know, Father. I know what a bear trap does to a man's leg, but I want to talk to you first. You can't waste time, Pete. I'll get Sergeant Preston to drive us back here with his dog team. It's faster than the doctor's. Before you go, I must talk to you. I want you to promise me something. Of course, Pete. Is it something about the bear trap? Yes. Somebody put it there in the trail on purpose. Maybe the Indians. You and I know better. The Indians know me. They wouldn't. I don't want them blamed. Then you're thinking what I'm thinking. But I don't want it known. I love the boy, Father. Yes, I know. It was the money that was bad for him. Yes, and he's weak. I promise you won't tell where the trap was hidden. You mean I shouldn't tell that it was put right on the trail to the cabin? You can say it was in the woods. Tail is in the woods. If that's the way you want it, Pete, you can trust me. Thank you, Father. Now, now I can sleep. I'll go as fast as I can, Pete. No shit, you stay here. I am slow enough with these glasses of mine frosting up all the time, but you'll even snore with that bad foot of yours. Now, stay here with Pete, Father. I'll be back. Pete had fallen in the deep sleep of complete exhaustion when Father McClain returned with Sergeant Preston and Dr. Drake. He slept heavily while the doctor examined his foot and talked gravely with a malty and a priest. Well, there's only one thing I can do. This leg will have to be amputated just below the knee. But the shock of it, Doctor, in his weakened condition... it may kill him, but there's no alternative. If I don't do it, he'll surely die. That trap was rusty and dirty. Blood poisoning has set him. You mean to operate on him here, Dr. Drake? Yes. We can't take time to move him back to town. I have everything with me, and it's our only chance. I've had to operate in worse conditions than this. Father McClain! Well, Pete, you're awake. Oh, boys. I'm sorry about this, Pete. So am I. Did I hear you say... I had to cut off my leg? Yes, Pete. You did. I guess that means I'm through. Oh, and not necessarily. You'll probably come through with flying colors, Pete. There's something I got to do first, Sergeant, in case I don't come through. Well, certainly, Pete. Anything you want to do. I want to change my will. Oh. You and Dr. McClain can witness it. Will you write it out for me, Sergeant? Well, of course, Pete, if you wish it. I'd been thinking what we talked about the other day. Yes, I remember. I wasn't strong enough to do what I should have done before, but I can do it now. Pete Ames died three days later. It was two days afterwards that Mick Ransom greeted Pete's nephew, Bob, with a broad grin as he opened his cabin door to admit him. Well, Bob, come in, come in. How does it feel to be rich? I don't work down without a hitch. Nobody even questioned you. It didn't work out as well as you thought it would. You mean someone is suspicious? Not that. I don't know why, but Father McClain never told anyone that the trap was on the trail. Well, then what are you worried about? We're rich. My uncle left his money to the church. What? He made another will before he died. He just found out about it. He left everything to Father McClain's mission. Just nothing? It might just as well be nothing. He left $50,000 of it with the old Padre to be given to me when I proved to him that I'd made $5,000 by working. Henry's, I'll never get it. You mean that priest has $50,000 that belongs to you? The rest of my uncle's money belongs to the mission. What a fine idea you had. But my uncle did it because he suspected me. It's all your fault. I'll never get out of this place now. Wait a minute. We're not through yet. I wonder if Father McClain still has that old iron safe in his cabin? What do you mean? He used to keep all the church money in it. Maybe that's where he'll keep yours. What of it? I got a little plan, Bob. It'll take some work and on, but I think we'll get out of town soon, you and me. And I think we'll have plenty of money when we go. It was the Sunday before New Year's Day and the early winter darkness had fallen when Father McClain returned to his cabin from the mission. As he entered, Chef was to greet him. Well, hello, Chef, old boy. Well, you lose him today. It's too bad I can't take you to church. Come on, fellow, I'll let you out. As soon as I put this money in the safe, I'll take you for a walk. Go on, old boy, I'll be with you in a minute. My Bob, hello. And there's Nick. What are you doing? Get away from that safe, Father. What do you mean, Nick? That gun. Put it down, Nick. Get away from that safe, I say. No, I won't. Let me go. Be careful of my glasses. Knocked my glasses over. I can't see. You stand right here with me. Bob, get the money out of that safe. I'll get it. I'll take everything that's here. Bob, most of that money belongs to the church. And if it hadn't been for you, it would have belonged to Bob. So you were guilty. Then Bob Booth planned the accident that caused Peach Day. I'll carry this up to the sled. Knock on back for the rest. Come on, Padre, you're coming with us. We're tying you to the sled and taking you for a little ride. As the sled drove off on the well-traveled trail, nobody noticed old Shep. The old dog watched the sled pull away, then limped after it slowly. The dog team outdistanced him quickly, but the old dog followed slowly, and presented his master guiding him. Sergeant Preston, with King beside him, had started into the police barracks when he met Corporal Murphy, who was just getting off duty. Hello, Sergeant. Hello. Just the man I'm looking for. You're not on duty, are you? I know I'm not, Corporal. It's on your mind. I saw Father McClain at church this morning, and he asked me over this evening. He said to bring you if you could come. Said something about planning a New Year's Day dinner. Glad to go with you. I've got some things I'd like to talk to him about. And if it means getting asked to one of his New Year fees, you wouldn't miss it, huh? Well, that certainly is a good persuader. Come on, let's go. Father McClain said tonight. I certainly did. Let's try the door. It's unlocked. Nobody's here. It's probably what I'll somewhere for a while. Let's go and wait for him. Come on. I'd better stir up that fire. Good idea. Murphy, look here. What? These are Father McClain's glasses. They were here on the floor. One lens is broken. Well, that's funny. You can't see a thing without them. They'd certainly never go outside if we didn't have them on. Yeah, maybe he has another pair. Well, even so, he wouldn't leave these on the floor for somebody to step on. I don't know if he's in trouble. Well, the room isn't messed up. The door is a safe. We'll shut. The shut all right, but whoever shut it forgot to turn the knob. It's not locked. Corporal, Father McClain's been robbed. Robbed? But where's he? We took money and he came to town to help. I wonder where Chef is. Chef? His dog. He won't let Father McClain out of his sight. Murphy, bring that ladder and we'll see if we can find any tracks. That trail is used by so many people. I can tell Chef's tracks. He has a crooked front foot. Drive that ladder over here, Corporal. All right. Those are your dog's tracks. Yes, but look at these over here. They belong to Chef. See that crooked foot? Yeah. And they lead away from town. The other way. Corporal, I'm going to follow these tracks. No, I thought of something better. You go back to town and get my dog team and supplies. I'll take King and follow this trail. You'll catch up with me, I'm sure. Hurry now, Corporal. We can't lose any time. Many miles ahead of Sergeant Preston and King, Nick and Bob had turned off the main trail and were headed for the hills. Father McClain was tied securely to the sled. A black moon was rising and lighted up the plane before. How much farther do we have to go before we get rid of Father McClain? I'm tired. I'd like to ride in the sled a while myself. Well, where do we get back in the hills where he can't possibly find his way back? The plane will let them just wander around loose like that. I'm available to find it. Nobody's going to start looking for him for a day or so. If his blind is a bat without his glasses, with no wood to burn and no food, he'll be frozen by morning. When they do find his body, they'll think he lost his glasses and got off the trail or something. I hope they'll think he tried to get away with the church money. If he's found shot or murdered, they'll put the Mounties on the case right away. This way's better. Well, nobody can follow a trail from this cabin. Don't worry, and we're here. They can't follow it when they don't know who did it. Anyway, everybody uses that trail out of Dawson. They sure can't take ours out of all the rest. But Nick and Bob didn't know that their trail was being marked clearly, marked by an old dog who came slowly and painfully after his master. King had no trouble finding the trail in the darkness, and by the time Corporal Murphy had caught up to them with a dog team, the moon had risen, and chef's tracks were easy to see. It was hours later that deep in the hills, they saw a small campfire. As they approached, they saw the figure of the priest and the old dog huddled together beside it. Oh, the McLean! Oh, King! How are you, sir? I heard the dog team. Are you all right, pocket? I'm cool, of course. I had some matches in my pocket, but I had no glasses and couldn't find much wood. Chef kept me warm. Put this for a robe around your father? Who did this? It was Bob and the Cransom. They'd gone off with the gold. I'll build this fire up. Bob Aims and the Cransom. They've probably headed to the border. That's where they were going, Sergeant. I heard them talking. How did you find me? They were taking glasses and then followed Chef's tracks. Poor fellow. He was ready to drop when he found me. He dragged himself to me. His poor foot all torn and bleeding. Father, I'm going to send you and Chef back to town on my sled with Corporal Murphy. Bob and Nick have gone back to the main trail. If I take King, I can take a shortcut through the hills that should save five miles. I may be able to catch them before morning at the head of the border. Yes, King. No sleep for us tonight. We've got work to do. Bob Aims and Nick Ransom had traveled steadily through the night. St. Streaks of Dawn painted the sky as they rounded the bend in the mountain trail that led to the border. Nick halted the team, and a spot where a solid trip of rock dropped dizzily 300 feet below them. Ho! Ho there! Ho! Ah. Doug, you finally decided to stop. This is a funny spot to camp. There's no room. We're not camping here. I can't go much farther. I'm too tired. You're not going any farther. What? What do you mean? You're the one they'll be looking for if they ever find the body of that priest and know the money's gone and know that you've skipped town. They won't connect me with it unless you're tagging along behind me. You mean, you're not going to take me with you? We're going to separate? We're going to separate, all right. But you're not going to be able to squeal when you're caught. Nick! Nick! No! Stay away from me! Nick! No! Don't push me over that cliff! Doug! No! Nick! Ben Haynes' terrified scream echoed and re-ackled through the mountains as Sergeant Preston rounded the bend where Nick Ransom stood at the edge of the cliff. As the figure of the mouth he came toward him, Nick rushed to his sled for his rifle but as he raised it, the gray form of king leaped at him. Get away from me, you perv. Stop him, take him off. He'll kill me. Darkfella, let him up. Take him away! Get up, Nick. So you were at the bottom of all this and now you've murdered Bob Ames. I didn't murder him. He fell over the side, he slipped. You're under arrest for murder and taking you back to Dawson. Sergeant Preston and Corporal Murphy were the only guests at Father McLean's New Year's dinner. The three men were solemn as they seized themselves at the table and Father McLean bowed Dear Lord, let us forget the evil that this past year has brought and think of the good that we can do in this year to come. Of all the blessings thou hast granted I thank thee most for ship. Please grant us the faith and courage that is his in this year to come and help me to follow thee with an equal love and trust. As Father McLean ended the prayer the three men were silent for a few moments. Then Sergeant Preston felt King's head on his knee and he smiled as he stroked the great dawg's shaggy neck. Yes, old fella. It's you that I'm most thankful for. The word for you and chef we wouldn't be here today. But thanks to you, King, this case is closed. The challenge of the Yukon, a copyrighted feature, is brought to you each week at this time and all names and incidents used are fictitious. Listen again next week to another exciting adventure during the days of the Gold Rush. Fred Boy speaking, this program came to you from Detroit. The ABC program, David Harding Counter-Spy, recently had a dual reason for celebrating. It had just finished its fifth year on the air and had been awarded a citation for her faith, understanding and brotherhood. The citation was made by one of the largest religious organizations in the country. A sample Counter-Spy script shows that while the entertainment side is kept in the forefront, the program still manages to combine themes of tolerance and good neighborliness as well. Counter-Spy stories are so timely that many listeners have accused the writers of having inside tips about news stories. But the writers say there's no crystal ball attached to their typewriter. The newspaper is like everyone else. You want to hear every fast-moving Counter-Spy drama. A regular Sunday afternoon feature broadcast over most of these same ABC stations.