 The Challenge of the Yukon! On King, on your knees! The Wonder Dog King, swiftest and strongest of Eskimo lead dogs, blazes a 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 knotted 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. In the small frame building that was Dorville City's jail, Sergeant Preston stood facing a prisoner who shrugged his shoulders unconcernedly, as the Mountie spoke. It'll go a lot easier on you if you choose to play ball with the law. Save your breath, Mountie. I ain't talking. I'm giving you a choice between hanging and life. We've already got one murder on you, the one you pulled with your gang when you robbed the Hudson Bay Post. I'll never hang. That's for a minor's jury to decide. Maybe. Milnes, suit yourself, MacDonald. Thanks. That's what I aim to do. Take it over. You're slated to hang anyway. We'll catch up with the rest of the gang eventually, but if we do it with your help, I can promise you it'll be... You don't need to promise me nothing. What I said before still goes. It wasn't for you and that blast of doggy yours. I wouldn't be in here. You're very generous with your praise. Yeah? I'll give you a tip, see? I ain't only not gonna hang, but I'll never even face a jury, because I won't be in here that long, Mountie. You seem mighty confident, MacDonald, but your luck's about run out. That's what you think. From where I'd sit, I'd say you're the one that's about run out of luck. If you stick around long enough, you'll see what I mean. It was late that night. Sergeant Preston walked slowly to the town, keying the great Malamute following close in his master's heels. Approaching the jail, the Mountie saw the dim outlines of a sled pulling away from the building. Come on, fella! No, boy, you tell the line of fire. Who did this? Sergeant Preston. Here, let me help you, Sandy. Ain't no use. They got me. But I built MacDonald with a taster lead before he... Well, that's it, huh? I got away from MacDonald. Yeah. There was two of them. Got the gun on me and took the keys. When they were getting set to mice, I reached for my gun. Take it easy, fella. No, no. I want to tell you. Two of them come for him, see? He ain't run the flash, Mom. I... Sandy, yes, King, this is one more murder the Winslow gang has to answer for, and I'm going to see that they do. It was late afternoon of the next day, and on the trail, miles north of Dovelle City... How about making camp here when... All right. How are you, Husky? How up there? How's the matter, Kelly? Nothing. I just got a feeling I won't be mushing any further with you. That's all. Are you helping from the sled, Kylin? How long harness it does? Oh, sure. Here. Come on. All right. Put the hide down. Sit down there, Kylin. Yeah. I'd have been better off rotten than that jail. At least I'd have my choice of living or dying. Yeah, what's eating you now? I'll get a fire going. You'll be all right. Ain't no fire going to make no difference to me. My luck's running out, he said. Oh, you're talking under your head, Charlie. Any more of that dry woodland? Yeah, it's on the sled. My luck started running out when I bumped into him. Him and that dog of his. I'd have had any sense of listening to him. Hey, what's this talk about luck? You're on top of the world and you don't know it. But a cut you got coming to you. You ought to... Top of the world. Thanks to that Mountie, I'll never see the cut. Yeah, you got away from the Mountie. Yeah, sure. You came back for me. Sure we did, sir. What are you yapping about? You came back for me because you had to. You're not fooling me, honeywins. Never mind. Let him alone. He doesn't know what he's saying. You knew that if you'd have left me there, I'd have talked. Take it easy, Charlie. You didn't want that, did you? See, in my neck, that's what I should have done. Maybe then slug the guard so into you didn't do the trick. But I'll put one in him. You don't have to bother. Let him alone. What's wrong with you? You're gone soft. Hey, maybe he means something to you now, huh? Don't be a fool. We won't last long. Mounties. I hate them. Makes you want to eat. Drop them for me, you win. But if you ever meet Preston in that mud of his... King, he calls him. Oh, king. Poor you. Both of them. Dogs like nothing in the Yukon. He can do the work of a whole pack of Huskies. You ought to see him with Preston. Take him quiet. Be smart. He's got that Mountie on the brain. Not on the brain, huh? Sure I got him on the brain. And you better hope for your sake. You won't ever get him on yours. He's poison. Don't worry. Preston and me ever meet. There's only going to be one of us walk away. And it won't be the money. Several days passed. Signs of the early darkness were beginning to cross the northern skies. As Carla Peters noticed a campfire ahead on the trail. Why not show that campfire win? We might as well... I don't know if I want to take any chances. You'll need another sled, won't we? To carry the stuff from the cave? Yes, my girl. That's right. Oh, you Huskies. Oh, there. Oh, there. Mind if we show your campfire, strangers? Put this off. Pleasant, Helenie. Hey, come on. Sergeant Preston's left by the campfire. The great Malamute King in the snow beside him. With apparent unconcern, the Mountie studied the newcomers. He noticed that the eyes of a man were the cold, merciless blue that might be a killer. As the two men measured each other, there was an electric tension in the air. Winslow had no way of knowing that the man, cruelly facing him, was a Mountie. For the policeman's heavy mackinac covered his tunic. Sounded like they ate a cold dinner. And then? Well, yeah, heading for a number of places. Oh. Uh, been on the trail long? Long enough. You, uh, you don't say much, do you? I didn't ask you any questions, did I? Oh, a cagey sort, huh? You don't seem to want company, mister. Maybe you're, uh, you're running away from the law? If I am, I wouldn't tell a stranger about it. Oh. Nice-looking sled you got. Matter of fact, I could use that sled. I wouldn't reach for that gun if I were you. Why not? He's a lot faster on the draw than you win. Yeah. That was mighty close, stranger. The next one will be even closer. All right. We understand each other now. You throw a letter around like somebody that had a lot of practice. Have it your way. I could use a man who knows how to keep his mouth shut. And that man could cut himself in on a very nice deal. I'm listening. What do you think, darling? I like the look, son. So be sure you play this straight. Wait a minute. I'm not interested in cutting in on any small deal. Listen to him, will you? Small deal, he says. Wait till we get to that cage. It was two days later. And during those two days, Carla Peters had turned her attention to the man that she knew only of Bill. Her interest in him and the man's indifference to her were not done noticed by Winslow. The gunman's suspicious jealousy overshadowed his original impression of the newcomer. And Preston, in his masquerade, felt Winslow's eyes on him constantly. From the conversation of the man and woman, the mountain gathered they were not far from the cave. The narrow trail edged itself against a wall. Below it was a treacherous stream rushing dizzily toward the rapids beyond. Be careful. I'll throw your weight on that turn ahead. Hey, you think you're talking to such a choco? Take care of your own sweat. I'll drive mine. Do it yourself. Well, King, old boy, since we can get them with a loadboat. Watch it! Hey, the sweat's out of control! Carla! Carla, follow me in the water. Pull your Malamute, pull! Hey, it should be pulled over those rapids. And I can't swim, Mike. King, King, old boy. Almost instantly, the great Malamute dove into the icy water. The girl had not yet been caught in the turn. But as she looked beyond to the spray rising from the rapids, her tear mouthing, and instead of swimming, she flashed about uselessly, struggling to keep her head above water. Attack King! Suddenly, the vagant dog cupped through the water, at length reaching the girl. Carefully buried his fangs into her water-soaked mackinac, and prepared to pull his burden to safety. The malty reached for a blanket to throw about the shivering girl. And as he put it around her shoulders, he looked squirrely into the muzzle of Winslow's revolver. A dog, Billy. Save my life, Mike. Did you hear what he called that dog? What are you driving at? Why the gun? That dog's name's King. Does the name mean anything to you, Carla? King. Yeah. Charlie mentioned him before he died. King and Preston. Reach, Molly. Then, Bill is Sergeant Preston. That's it, baby. Sure, I should have known it, Sergeant William Preston. Well, you played your part well. I can pretty near guess what your plans were, too. Can you? Once you got inside the cave, you'd have us with a loot. And we'd go back to town in handcuffs. That's a pretty accurate guess, Winslow. And I'll have to hand it to you. You sure had me fooled. Well, I heard you call the dog my name. And all this time you've been saying fella. When you said King, he was in the water like a shot out of a gun. Well, he just as smart as Charlie said he was. But that slip's going to cost you your life, Molly. He called him by name when he ordered the dog into the water to save me. Quiet, boy. You're calling the deal now, Winslow. That's right. And you're going out of it on this thing. No. I don't save my life. I don't want to. Put that gun away. Get away from me. No, no. I won't. Put that gun away. He saved my life. All right. All right. All right. I'll jump you before you can pull that trigger. Miss Peters. Don't raise that gun, Winslow. Drop it. Carla. Carla. You win, Molly. There's only one of the Winslow gang left. Well, maybe it's better that way. You're under arrest, Winslow. Yes, King, 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 are sent to you each week at the same time and reach you from our transcription studios.