 Now as gunshots echo across the windswept snow-covered reaches of the Wild Northwest, Quaker Pop Wheat and Quaker Pop Rice, the breakfast cereal shot from guns, present the challenge of the Yukon. It's Yukon King, swiftness and strongest lead dog of the Northwest, blazing the trail for Sergeant Preston of the Northwest Mounted Police in his relentless pursuit of lawbreakers. Gold, gold discovered in the Yukon, a stampede to the Klondike in the wild race for riches, back to the days of the Gold Rush, with Quaker Pop Wheat and Quaker Pop Rice bringing you the adventures of Sergeant Preston and his Wonder Dog Yukon King as they meet the challenge of the Yukon. Fellas and girls, long hours at school or playing football or games calls for a hearty breakfast. Tomorrow, make yours a breakfast of delicious Quaker Pop Wheat or Quaker Pop Rice with milk and fruit. Quaker Pop Wheat and Quaker Pop Rice furnish extra health benefits of restored natural-grade amounts of vitamin B1, niacin and iron. What's more, these ready-to-serve king-size kernels of premium wheat or rice are shot from guns to make them crisp and tender. They're delicious. Yes, try them. You'll say, here's the breakfast we like to eat. Quaker Pop Rice. Or Quaker Pop Wheat. At Mounted Police Headquarters in Whitehorse, two officers, Constable Drake and Corporal Jenkins, sat talking beside the big stove. The subject of their conversation, a big black dog, lay at the younger Mountie's feet and Constable Drake smiled down at him as he told Corporal Jenkins about him. Shadow's a little too big to use with the average dog team. What breed is he, anyway? He's half wolf and half Newfoundland. Shadow, that's certainly a good name for him. He never lets you out of his sight. You ought to meet Sergeant Preston. He's up in Dawson City. He has a dog that's just as faithful as Shadow. You mean King? Of course, I've heard of both of them. They're almost a legend in the Force. I'd like to see that dog of Preston's. They say he's a wonder. You'd have a lot in common with Preston. And maybe he'll get a trip north one of these days. And I doubt it. Until we clean up Soapy Smith's gang, we haven't enough officers here in Whitehorse. I'd like to have an assignment up there, though. It's a rough country, Drake. But it's interesting. Yeah, one of you officers come with me right away. I just found old Jim Patterson out in his cabin at the edge of town. He's dying out there. What's that? Somebody robbed him and must have gone off thinking he was dead. Jim Patterson? Well, of course, I'll be right with you, Jake. You're off duty, Drake. You don't have to go. I'll go with you anyway. I like old Jim. Yeah, come along, Shadow. Is Jim conscious at all? He's trying to talk, but I didn't wait to get what he said. I headed straight for here. As the two men bent over Jim Patterson in the small cabin at the edge of town, they knew he was dying. The old prospector recognized Constable Drake and made a supreme effort to tell him something. Hey, the man... The man... Take it easy, Jim. You're gonna tell me who did this? Were there two men? Yes. You... You know. I know them. The man... The man that kicked Shadow. Did he say the man who kicked Shadow? Yes. He means the other night in the Silver Dollar Cafe. Is that what you mean, Jim? He's nodding his head. That man is Jeff Gibson, and he had a half-breed with him called Moose. Are they the ones you mean, Jim? Yes. They... They robbed me. They... Jim. Jim. Is... Is he gone, Corporal? He's dead. Poor Jim. Why are these men he was talking about, Drake? They were newcomers in town. One of them bumped into me the other night when I went into the Silver Dollar Cafe. Shadow growled at him and he kicked him. Shadow would have torn him apart, but I caught him in time. I asked the bartender about them later, for rough-looking customers, and I got their names. Jim was sitting at a nearby table. Would you know the men if you saw them again? Of course. Uh-huh. Ali Inspector will probably give you the case. I'm going to ask for it. Jeff Gibson's gonna pay for this, and Shadow has a debt to settle with him, too. About a week later, up in Dawson City, Sergeant Preston of the Northwest Mounted Police entered the office of Inspector Grayson. Beside the Mountie, a big gray dog walked quietly and stood at Sergeant Preston's side as he stopped before the inspector's desk. Good morning, Sergeant. Morning, sir. Hello there, King. He always waits until I speak to him. That's quite a trick you've taught him, Sergeant. He's part of the force, sir, and has to obey regulations. I wish we had a dozen dogs like King. Sergeant, I'm putting you on a case with Constable Drake. He's coming up here from Whitehorse. Have you ever met him? Why, no, sir, I haven't. I've heard of him, though, from some of the officers who know him. Isn't he the one who has a big black dog that's rather unusual? Yeah, he's the man. I met him once in Whitehorse. I suppose the man told you about him because you have a lot in common. He likes dogs about as much as you do, and his dog, Shadow, is just about as faithful to him as King is to you. I heard the dog's half Newfoundland and half wolf, rather an unusual combination. Yes, I saw him. He has wolf ears and slanting gray eyes and long black hair. Well, but it isn't the dog we're supposed to be interested in. It's the men Drake is after. One, a half breed is known as Moose. The other is Jeff Gibson. Here's the description of them. It isn't very good. Gibson is a dangerous man, and Constable Drake will need help. He's never been in this part of the country. I'd like that assignment, sir. You're going south on your next patrol anyway, and I suggest that you continue on down to Selkirk. You'll probably meet Constable Drake on the way. Yes, sir. And keep an eye open for Jeff Gibson and Moose. They're in this part of the country somewhere. Constable Drake knows them by sight. We'll get them, Inspector. Only King. As Sergeant Preston proceeded south toward Selkirk, two men many miles away were headed north on the same trail. Jeff Gibson and Moose plotted along wearily on foot, carrying their packs on their backs. As they walked up a steep slope, Moose the half-breed stopped suddenly. Don't can go much more. Be tired. We'll camp at the top of this hill. I'm tired, too. Now, come on. It better our dogs get loose. I told you to fix the harness. It was all your fault. We'll get a team somehow. We'll lose time. Maybe murder police after us already. Ah, quit yapping. I'm not afraid of the murder police. Maybe Jim Patterson not die. Maybe him tell we rob him. Maybe you're crazy, too. There's the top of the hill. Better stop up here while we eat. We'll see the whole trail for miles. Look, down there. Dog team coming. Yeah, coming fast, too. Get behind that rock. Now, that's a big team. Just what we need. Wait a minute. What's wrong? Look at that big black dog. It isn't hitched with the team. Huh? It looks like that Monty's dog. The one that went for me in the cafe the other night. Look how big it is. You think maybe that Monty? I know it is. I'd know that black cur is anywhere. No wonder that's a big dog team. It's constable Drake. At least alone. We better hide off trail. Hide nothing. I'm waiting right here behind this rock till he gets close enough to shoot at. Are you not kill Monty that bad? We get caught. Nobody will find him. Get a good beat on him from here. You get him. Wait a minute. I'm not gonna beat on that big black dog. You hit dog, too. Come on, Moose. We're getting ourselves a dog team of supplies. I'm not sure what's nice about Constable Drake to come along just when we need them. He didn't take you as this close on our trail. Maybe him not dead. Moose and Jeff hurried to the side of the fallen man. Jeff crouched and examined the bullet wound. Then looked up at Moose and grinned smugly. He's dead all right. I knew I didn't miss. We take team and go now. No. We're gonna bury him first. I don't want him found. You know what it would mean if they found a dead Monty. Ground too hard, Burriam. It'd take long time. We'll cover him with branches and snow. There's a shovel and pick on a sled. Say, wait a minute. Huh? I got an idea. Drake is just my size. What do you do? I'm gonna change clothes with him. You dress like Monty. Sure. It'll be a lot easier traveling as a Monty. And you can be my guide. We'll say we came all the way from Whitehorse chasing two criminals called Jeff Gibson and Moose. Nobody around here will even suspect us. Go on. Start getting branches and digging while I change clothes with him. Get that pick off his sled. We bury dog too. No. We gotta hurry before someone comes along. Nobody will worry about a dog. But a dead man is something different. Go on now. Hurry. Soft flakes of snow were falling as Sergeant Preston drove his dog team along the trail toward Selkirk the following day. He was accompanied by Gene Duquette, a trapper he had met on the trail at morning. Me? I am lucky to meet you, Sergeant. Them father and they are heavy to carry all the way to Selkirk. Glad to give you a lift, Gene. The snow keeps falling much longer. We'll be lucky to get there ourselves. We have made good time since morning. Yes. About time to stop and eat, though. What is wrong with Gene? You must see something off the trail there. What is it, boy? Snow's so heavy I can't see anything. He can go off trail. Let's see what it is. Where are you, King? There he is. There's a black dog lying there. Here, King. Stay back, boy. That black dog. He is hurt now. It's too weak to get out. Hello there, fellow. Look. He has a bullet wound across his head. Yes. It does look as if a bullet had creased his skull. No. Steady, fellow, I won't hurt you. He finds himself a soft place to lie. These branches, all covered in snow. Yes. He doesn't seem to want to leave. He is a different looking dog. I have never seen one like that. This is if he might be part Newfoundland and part Wolf. Gene, this must be Constable Drake's dog. The man you're telling me about? The one you were to meet? Yes. Look, gray eyes, wolf ears, long black hair. Maybe that money he think he is dead and leave him. Constable Drake would never do that. The dogs are fat. Something must have happened to the Constable. Gene, we're going to see what's under this pile of branches. We'll continue our story in just a moment. I am thinking of something. Can you tell me what it is? Gee, it looks like we're going to play that swell game again. Boy, and all of us can play it, too. Right, kids. Remember, you just ask me questions. I'll answer right or wrong. And you see how quick you can guess just what it is I'm thinking of. Ready? Okay, let's see. Is it something famous? Right, you are, Billy. Gosh, it wouldn't be Quakerpuff wheat or Quakerpuff rice. We had that before. And it wouldn't be the gun that shoots him, either. Nope. Does it have anything to do with Quakerpuff wheat or Quakerpuff rice? Yep, very much so. Boy, this is tough. Well, here's a tip. What's your favorite color? Mine's red. Mine's blue. Hmm, red and blue. Does that remind you of anything? Oh, sure. The red and blue Quaker package. That's close, Sandra. Actually, what I'm thinking of in particular is something else right on the front of every package of Quakerpuff wheat and Quakerpuff rice. Oh, now, Billy, don't look so discouraged. Cheer up. Smile. Hmm? Gee, I got it. It's a smiling Quaker man on the package. Right, kids. I was thinking of the smiling Quaker man on the front of every package of Quakerpuff wheat and Quakerpuff rice. And when you fellas and girls want the swellest-tasting breakfast ever, think of delicious, ready-to-serve, wheat or rice shot from guns. And when you want the original Quakerpuff wheat and Quakerpuff rice, there's only one way to get these crisp, tender, king-sized kernels exploded up to eight times normal size. Ask for crisp, fresh, Quakerpuff wheat and Quakerpuff rice. They're never sold in bags or bulk. Yes, always remember to buy the big red and blue package with a smiling Quaker man on the front. He's your guarantee that you're getting the one and only Quakerpuff wheat and Quakerpuff rice. Now to continue our story. Shadow knew that the body of his master lay beneath the mound of twigs and branches. He felt that it was his duty to stand on guard. But Sergeant Preston had other ideas. He stepped forward. Stay back there, King. It's all right, boy. He won't hurt me. Come on, fella. You are a brave man, Sergeant. Me, I would not like to do that. There, his office. Let's get out those branches. Soon this snow would have covered them all. Help me with this big one, would you? Maybe I should get shoveled. I don't think it's necessary. It didn't do a very thorough job. We can scrape it away with our hands. That's your master, isn't it, old boy? Wait. It's his body all right. Here it is. But look, this man... It's Constable Drake. He took his clothes. They didn't take time to remove his shoes. They're regulation. I'm wearing a pair exactly like them. But who would do things like this? Probably the men he was after. Jeff Gibson and Moose. They must have ambushed him. No one will know he is Mountie. Maybe another reason. The man who did this may be wearing the uniform. He'd pretend he is Mountie. It would be a good disguise. He could go anywhere. As long as he avoided members of the force. He's probably headed for the border. They would meet us on trail. That is the way they must go to the border. On trail we come on. It wouldn't be hard to avoid us. They saw us coming. We have gone into a canyon off the trail until we passed. This snow is covered all tracks. Maybe they go back to Selkirk. Constable Drake just came from there. Doubt they'd take that chance. Go back to Dawson? Yes, Gene. I'll take the body to headquarters for identification. I have to carry the dog on the sled too. It's too weak to travel on foot. I hope you'll get this fellow who'll do this. I'll get them all right. Anyone who kills a mountain policeman always pays for it. And I'll get Jeff Gibson. The heavy snowfall had not stopped Jeff Gibson and Moose as they traveled north with Constable Drake's dog team. But the miles of travel on foot had sucked their strength. As they neared the town of Deer Creek they could think only of warmth and shelter from the rising wind. We'd come town soon. You know this territory? What town is it? Deer Creek. It's not far from here. It's very big. Just trading post and a few caverns. That ought to be a good place to stop. It's getting dark. We get supply at trading post. There are many people that know we're here. We'll go straight through town. Stay at one of the caverns of the Outskirts. Maybe we can get a prospector to buy our supplies for us. By the time Jeff and Moose had reached the town the early darkness had settled and nobody saw the two men and dog team as they plotted through the thick snowfall. A small cavern lay ahead at the very edge of Deer Creek and Jeff stopped the team near it. Here's a good place. It's a good distance away from the other caverns. You think we can stay here for a night? We can with this uniform. You feed the dogs, Moose. Get them fixed up for the night. I'll handle this. Who are you? Constable Drake, the Northwest Model Police. Oh, Monty. Come in, come in. You're just in time for supper. Take off your park and sit down beside the school warm shelf. Thanks. My guide is feeding the dogs. Yes, Blizzard coming up. Thought maybe you'd put us up for the night. Sure will. Anything I can do for the Model Police I'm happy to do. I can't remember seeing you around here before. You were a new man? I came up from Whitehorse. This is my first trip up here. We're on the trail of some criminals. We don't want people to know we're here. If these men find out I'm close on that trail it'll be harder to get them. As it is, they'll be careless. They don't know we're after them. Who are they? Maybe I've seen them. A man by the name of Jeff Gibson and his partner. We think they're out here somewhere. Well, you don't have to worry. I won't tell anybody you're here. Maybe later on you'd go to the trading post for me and get some supplies. Then nobody'll know we've been here. Sure, I'd be glad to. I'll go right after supper. You just sit down and make yourself at home while I start wrestling up some grub here. Say, I didn't even tell you my name. It's Hank. Hank Stevens. As the evening wore on, the snowstorm stopped as suddenly as it had begun. Through it all, however, Sergeant Preston continued his way to Deer Creek. It was some time later that he stopped his tear and entered the trading post. Hello there, Sergeant Preston. You're traveling late tonight. How are you, Sandy? I couldn't waste any time. I'm after two murderers. Murderers? I thought perhaps you'd seen them. One of them would be dressed in a mountain police uniform. You don't mean, Sergeant, that one of the force murdered somebody? No, this man murdered Constable Drake. I have his body out on my sled. Murderers dressed in his clothes. Murdered a mountain. I'd hate to be him. Seen the captain. I found his body. While Sergeant Preston explained the details of the crime to Sandy in the trading post, Hank Stevens and Moose were nearing it to buy the supplies. The moon had broken through the clouds and ended their path. Yeah, I'm glad that snowstorm's done with it. It looked like a real storm was coming, but I guess it blew over. Ah, they're clear for travel tomorrow. Yep. You and Constable Drake can get an early start. Maybe you'll catch them murderers. Hey, look, in front trading post. Yeah, sled and dog team. They look like dog on sled. It is a dog. Big black one. He's tired. Maybe he's hurt or something. Well, I am something wrapped in blanket. Yeah. Looks like it might be a body or something. Well, say, this looks like Sergeant Preston's team. I'll bet he's inside the trading post. He'll be a big help to Constable Drake for finding them murders. We better go in and tell him. No, no, tell him. But he's a mouty. He probably knows about it anyway. I'm going to... No, you do nothing. Oh! You tell nothing. Moose raced back to the small cabin where Jeff was getting ready for bed. As he burst into the door, Jeff looked up curiously. Are you back with the supplies already? Come. We get out of here now. What's wrong with you? A mouty here from town. Him find big dog you think you kill. Him after us. A mouty? Where's Hank? You didn't let him see the mouty, did you? Me hit him. Him unconscious. Him freeze before morning. Hurry, grab some grub. You should have made sure Hank was dead. May come too before he freezes and start clapping. Head cold. Him freeze soon. Come when we go now. I'm ready. You get the dogs hitched. Them dog too tired. No can go fast. We get caught like that. Well, we'll sure get caught if we go on foot. I'm taking that dog to you. Me go cross country. Me not go with you. Go ahead. I won't stop you. We'll split the gold we got from Jim Patterson to separate. Maybe we can shake that mouty better if we go in different directions. Anyway, may never know we've been here. Jeff and Moose hurriedly divided the stolen gold and then set out from the cabin. In the meantime, Sergeant Preston had finished the hot tea Sandy had made for him. As he put the cup down, Sandy noticed the deep lines of fatigue in his face from the long hard trip he had had that day. Sergeant, you're dead in your feet. Why don't you just go to bed and let me put the dogs away for the night. I'll get my pocket. That sounds like a good idea Sandy. I am tired, but I'd better help you with the dogs. That black one on the sled needs special handling. Better bring him in here for the night if he's wounded. No, I'm afraid he wouldn't leave the body of his master. Well, I'll help you with the dogs. Come on, King. The moon's out. Temperature's still pretty low, though. As King came out of the trading post with a sergeant, the set of blood came to his nostrils. As he turned the corner of the building, he found the unconscious form of Hank Stevens. Then he heard Sergeant Preston calling him. King, what are you doing, boy? What is it, King? Did he find something? Yes, he did. It's a man. Let him out, Sandy. It's Hank Stevens. Somebody knocked him out. His head is bleeding. His regaining consciousness is steady there. Oh, my head. You'll be all right. He hit me. Who did? The big man. He was called Moose. Moose? Travelling with a... with a Mountie. What Mountie? Drake. Constable Drake. They were at my place. He fainted again. I'll carry him into the trading post. I think the man who hit him and the one he called Drake at the minute I'm after... Here are some tracks, Sergeant. They lead back toward Hank's cabin. And they're fresh. Help me get him inside first, Sandy. And King and I will leave while the trail's fresh. But when Sergeant Preston reached Hank's cabin, both Moose and Jeff had disappeared. The moon riding high in the heavens threw a bright light on the trail, where the tracks of the man were written clearly. It was then that the Mountie faced a new problem. Yes, old boy, they've gone off in different directions. One of them on snowshoes, heading for the hills, and the other kept on the trail with a dog team. Oh, King, I hate to do this, but we must get both of them. Hope nothing happens to you, fella, but you're going to get one of them alone. I'll go after the other one, the one with the dog team, boy. Now, you, King, these tracks, get him, King, and hold him. Come on, boy, I'll find you. Get him! On you, Huskies! Push! Push on! It was almost an hour later that a dark blot on the white snow of the trail ahead made the Mountie slow down, leave his team and approach on foot. It was a sled and team, the dogs lying exhausted in the snow. Just as Preston bent over the sled, there was a spurt of flame from a thicket about 50 yards away. A bullet whistled close to the Mountie's ear. Preston, Sergeant Preston's gun answered. A crash of branches told him he had hit his mark. Cautiously, he approached. His gun held ready. But Gibson lay motionless in the snow. Until the Mountie bent to see how badly he had been hit. Then the outlaw turned quickly and his gun came up. Preston felt the gun's flame brush his cheek. Taken completely by surprise, he was off balance. He threw himself to one side. Jeff Gibson fired again, then Preston's gun barked. One bullet tugged at the Mountie's tunic, but Preston's shot was true. It hit the other's shoulder with sledgehammer force. Jeff's arm was numb and helpless. His gun fell to the snow. That was a good trick. It nearly worked. I give up. You, Jeff Gibson? Yes. Yes, you know him. Oh, my shoulder. Don't kill me. I'll tell everything. I won't kill you. The law will take care of that. I arrest you in the name of the Queen. My shoulder. I'll bring my dog sled here and take you back to town. Hurry. Hurry up. In the meantime, King raced after the man his master had told him to catch. His silent gray form streaked over the snow like a shadow. At moose, though he turned now and then to look over his shoulder, was sure he was not being pursued. Silently and swiftly the great dog King closed the gap between them. And then, with a roar, he leaped at the half-breed's back, knocking him to the ground. Get away! Stop you devil! Where's my gun? Desperately, moose reached for his gun, but King's great jaws closed over his arm. No! My arm! Let me go! Stop you! The great dog King had learned his business well. Careful training had taught him how to handle a gunman. He increased the pressure of his jaws on moose's arm until the outlaw dropped his gun. Then King relaxed the arm and stood with bared fangs close to moose's throat. Paralyzed with fear, the big man lay still. The slightest movement brought a warning growl. No! No! Sweating with tear, the killer lay motionless and helpless. Time passed slowly. King wondered how long he must remain here on guard, but he didn't relax his vigilance. And then at last, as the moon was sinking behind the hills, Sergeant Preston approached over the clearly-defined snowshoe trail that led from town. The mountain was a welcome sight. Hello, hello, hello. Well, old fellow, you did it. Good boy, King. Long wait, wasn't it? Take... take dog away. All right, King. Back, fellow. Let him up. I have his gun. Get up, moose. You're under arrest. Your partner's back in town. My feet. They're my most friends. Get up and start walking. That will thaw them out. Keep dog away. That dog's staying right behind you. Your partner had some of the gold that was stolen from Jim Patterson. I suppose you have the rest. Yes. The charges against you were robbery and murder. That dog! You couldn't get away from him, moose. He's a member of the Northwest Mounted Police. Good work, King. When we get back, you can tell Shadow that you got your man, and that this case is closed. In just a moment, Sergeant Preston will give you a preview of Monday's program. Here's how Mother can make your family a breakfast-happy family this coming weekend. Be sure to order Quaker Puffed Wheat and Quaker Puffed Rice. Just one bowlful of this swell-tasting, ready-to-serve cereal shot from guns, and you'll say nothing tastes so swell, except maybe two bowlfuls. But mind you, to get the original, crisp, fresh, wheat and rice shot from guns, always buy the big Quaker Red and Blue Package. Quaker Puffed Wheat or Quaker Puffed Rice is never sold in bags or bulk. These radio dramas, a feature of the challenge of the Yukon Incorporated, created and produced by George W. Trendle, directed by Fred Flower Day, and edited by Fran Stryker. The part of Sergeant Preston is played by Paul Sutton. They are brought to you every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at the same time by Quaker Puffed Wheat and Quaker Puffed Rice, the breakfast cereal shot from guns. Listen Monday when Sergeant Preston and Yukon King meet the challenge of the Yukon in the adventure of the Second Chance. How would you like it if you were faced with the necessity of tracking down and arresting one of your best friends? Well, that's what King and I thought we'd have to do after the robbery on the Christmas River Trail. We were wrong. Instead of a friend at the end of the trail, we found the smoking six guns of a pair of desperate killers. Be sure to hear this exciting story Monday. Till then, this is J. Michael wishing you good bye, good luck and good health from Quaker Puffed Wheat and Quaker Puffed Rice. So long. For a delicious hot breakfast, eat Quaker Oats. The giant of the cereals is Quaker Oats. Yes, the giant of the cereals is Quaker Oats. Delicious, nutritious, makes you feel ambitious. The giant of the cereals is Quaker Oats. Say, boys and girls, do you want to be a star someday in sports and activities? Then start on good Quaker Oats breakfast tomorrow because nourishing oatmeal gives you more growth and endurance than any other whole grain cereal. Still less than one penny is serving. Quaker and Mother's Oats are the same.