 Now, as gunshots echo across the windswept snow-covered reaches of the Wild Northwest, Quaker-puffed wheat and Quaker-puffed rice, the breakfast cereal shot from guns, present the challenge of the Yukon. It's Yukon King, swiftest and strongest lead dog of the Northwest, blazing the trail for Sergeant Preston of the Northwest Mounted Police, in his relentless pursuit of lawbreakers. And King, on you, Huskies! 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-puffed wheat and Quaker-puffed rice, bringing you the adventures of Sergeant Preston and his Wonder Dog Yukon King, as they meet the challenge of the Yukon. Stop! Look and listen! Here's a super idea for your breakfast tomorrow morning. First, pour out a heaping bowlful of delicious, crisp, nourishing Quaker-puffed wheat or Quaker-puffed rice. Then cover it with good, thick, rich yellow cream. Top it with chilled fruit. And the very sight of it makes your mouth water for a taste. Take a big spoonful. And when crisp, tender, flavorful Quaker-puffed wheat or rice melt in your mouth with a velvety, smooth, rich cream and sweet fruit, you'll say, there's a super treat I want often. So get ready. Get super delicious, nourishing, Quaker-puffed wheat and Quaker-puffed rice right away. The wind and snow had increased in intensity since Sergeant Preston of the Northwest Mounted Police had left Dawson City for the town of Forty Mile. The Great Dog King, running ahead as a loose lead, was finding it more difficult as time went on to break through the large snowdrifts that piled up across the trail. And King, on you, Husky! Preston urged the dog team onward with the idea of keeping them in motion. He knew the dogs were tired and he himself was weary from the constant struggle against the tearing, forceful wind and the hard, steaming snow. But to stop, even for a short time, might prove to be fatal in a blizzard of such intensity. Preston saw King up ahead stop and look back before plunging through another huge snowdrift. Preston called a momentary halt. Oh, there! Oh, you, Husky! King, fella, we have to go on. The storm gets much worse, we may never get to Forty Mile. Let's get moving, King. Put him away, fella. All right, on, King! On, you, Husky! Several hours later, Sergeant Preston arrived in Forty Mile. And after seeing that his dog team were taken care of, he went to the constable's office with King at his side. I didn't expect you to get here so soon, especially since this blizzard came up. The stuff going there, believe me. But it was. Sit down, you must be tired. Oh, thanks. Well, I'll King to break the way. I'd be marooned somewhere in a snowdrift. No, I'm surprised you got through even with King to lead you. That storm's pretty bad, Sergeant. Well, Nat, let's get to the point. You sent an Indian runner to headquarters in Dawson asking me to come up here to help on a murder case. That's right, Sergeant. I figured it must be mighty important to have you sent for help. There are two important reasons, at least, Sergeant. First, because of a leg injury, I can't trail the murder. Oh. And second, the man whom we believe to be guilty is Tom Jenkins. Tom Jenkins? You sure? Reasonably sure. That's hard to believe. Tom's always been a quiet, hard-working fella. Yes, I know. Who was the victim? Jake, the storekeeper. What? Well, I got Jake to give Jenkins credit a couple of months ago. Now, remember, Jake told Jenkins at that time that he'd expect payment in two months. And Tom Jenkins was doing all right at this claim. I felt sure he'd be able to pay in that time. That's true. But it seems Tom came to town and told Jake his cabin had been ransacked and that what gold he had was stolen from him. Tom reported the robbery to me that day, and I went to investigate. But there were no clues to be found. I see. Go on. Well, the next day, which was a week ago, Tom went into the store and Jake accused him of lying about being robbed as an excuse not to pay. Jake always thought people were trying to cheat him. Yes, he was a hard man to deal with. Well, it doesn't seem possible that he'd kill Jake for accusing him of lying. Tom didn't seem to be the quick-tempered type of man to me. He wasn't, Sergeant. A few men were lounging in the store at the time. I questioned them to find out just what took place. Seems that Tom Jenkins went to the store after he'd taken me out to investigate the robbery of his cabin. Hi, Jenkins. Hello, Tom. Hi, Dave. Jake, the constable went out to my cabin with me, and I'm sorry to say he couldn't find any clues that might help get back that stolen gold. Now, see here, Tom Jenkins. The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that you just made up that story about being robbed so as to put out paying me what you owe. That kind of talk doesn't set well with me, Jake. I told the truth about that gold being stolen, and because of it, I can't pay right now. But you'll get paid later when I get more. Well, I've been taken in before by young fellas like you, Jenkins, who kept putting me off with trumped-up excuses until finally they just lit out from 40 miles and left me holding the bag. Well, you needn't worry about me doing that. When I say you'll get paid, you can con on it. You never does take time. I don't have to take your word for it, Jenkins. And what's more, I won't have to wait either. Just what do you mean by that? I'll tell you what I mean. I'm going to that lawyer fella here in town and get him to find legal means to take that claim he owes to cover that debt. Jake, that claim is all I have, and you know it's a good paying claim. I'm not gonna stand by and let you or anyone else take it away from me. How is that so? Yes, that's so. You either get the money and pay me by tonight or I'll stop proceedings to take over your claim, Jenkins. And once more, there won't be anything that you can do about it. Jake, I can't get the money by tonight. I'm warning you to give up that idea of taking my claim or you'll be mighty sorry, understand? That's all I got to say. Now, I better get out of here before I lose my temper. Then after making that threat, Tom Jenkins walked out of the store. What about the killing and outside of the threat he made? What points to Tom as the killing? All Jake was killed that night in his quarters in back of the store, and the store safe was robbed. But what about Tom? Well, I don't know. But what about Tom? Well, I went over to Bear Creek Trail that afternoon. It snowed pretty heavily that night, continuing until noon the next day. I waited at Bear Creek until the snow stopped. Then I came back here getting here about suppertime. It was then I learned of the murder. And there were mutterings in town about Tom. Because of the threat he'd made? Yes. I went to Jake's place and looked things over. The killer had gotten Jake to let him in somehow. Then I figured he left by the back door, which was unbolted when I looked it over. I opened it and looked out the back. But the heavy snowfall had smoothed everything over. There were no tracks or marks there. I still don't see where Tom fits into this, Ned. I'm coming to that. I went to the cafe to question everyone. I knew most of the townsmen would be there. I'm sure glad you're back in town, Constable. We're all anxious to see you get the lowdown sneak and shot and rob poor old Jake last night. I've just come from Jake's place. I have some questions to ask you. Go ahead, Constable. Sure. What do you want to know? What's the latest anyone saw Jake alive last night? Dave Baxter can tell you most of what you want to know. Him and Rusty Jackson were in the store at Cousin Time with some of us. And the two of them were the ones that discovered the killer. That's right. All right, Dave. What about it? Well, several of us were in the store when Jake said he wanted to lock up. So we all left and came here to the cafe. Did anyone person stay there with Jake after you left? No. We all went out. Jake turned the lock behind us. And that was about 10 o'clock last night. Yes, sir. A little before midnight, Rusty and I started for our cabin. As we passed Jake's store, we noticed a lamp was lighted in the back room. The light was shining through a big crack in the window shutter. Go on, then what? We figured since he was still awake, he might open up and give us some chewing tobacco. So we banged on the front door. Jake will always open up if he's awake like that. Yeah. I guess that's how the killer got in. When Jake didn't answer, we went around to the back. And we knocked there. And I tried the back door. It was unboldened and open when I pressed the latch. Right away, Rusty and I saw Jake lying on the floor. We ran right back here because we knew the doctor was here and that you were out of town. Yeah. I got the doctor's report as soon as I got back. I hate to tell you this, Constable, but Tom Jenkins threatened Jake yesterday morning. Several of us here heard him do it. Jenkins must have done it. Yeah. He could have slipped away from here without anyone noticing. So could any one of you men for that matter. I'll question Tom Jenkins, of course, but... Here comes Rusty. Yeah. He seems excited, too. Constable, I found something that might be just a clue you're looking for. What have you found, Rusty? This glove. It was at the foot of the back steps of Jake's place. Hmm. When did you find this? Just a short time ago. The doctor said you were in town and might want to ask me some questions. I went to Jake's thinking you might still be there. Strange. I didn't find this glove a while ago. You went in the front way, Constable. You just looked out the back door. You didn't search. If I was at the foot of the steps, it was probably out of sight from the doorway. Oh, look, Constable. You won't have to go far to find who owns that glove, either. Oh? How do you know? Go on. Tell them, Rusty. Well, after I picked up the glove, I started up the street toward the cafe here. I caught up to Tom Jenkins walking this way, too. Why didn't Tom come in? I'm getting to that. I showed him the glove and I said, Tom seems to me I've seen you wear gloves like this. Tom stopped walking and said, No, no, you couldn't have. Then right away he says, Why did you get that glove? He seemed upset. I bet he recognized it all right. Sure he did. He was bug-eyed, staring at it. Then I told him where I found it, and then I was taking it to the Constable. When I said that, he turned around and ran back in the direction of his cabin on the edge of town. Tom's the one who killed Jake. Sure. He threatened Jake, then went through with it. That settles it, Constable. Tom Jenkins is the one who killed Jake. Now, you better get after him before he hits a trail away from Portima. I mean, that does make Jenkins a logical suspect, but you'll need more to make a case. The point that clenches at Sergeant is that Tom Jenkins was gone when I went to his cabin. Oh, that does look bad. Did you pick up his trail at all? Yes. Tom headed up the Bear Creek Trail. I got my dog team and started after him. Started to snow again. Then a few miles from town, I stepped into a small ice crevice injuring my leg. I gave up and came back to Portima. Then I sent for you. I see. That means there's only one thing to do now. Go after Tom and get him before he has a chance to cross the border if he hasn't reached it already. I figure he wouldn't be foolish enough to try going on through the well that we've been having. Let's see. Tom's had about three days' start. Yes, but I feel sure he holed up some place along the trail. And this blizzard will keep him there a while. Let's hope you're right. And better make preparations to be on my way. You mean you're going right now in this blizzard? Yes. If I wait until it stops, Jenkins will push on before I can catch him. I realize the risk I'll be taking that I'm going to get Tom Jenkins and bring him back. We'll continue our adventure in just a few moments. Old Timer, you look pretty busy there panning for gold. Well, son, when you're prospecting for gold up here in the Yukon, even forget about eating. But not when you have a heaping bowl full of Quakerpuff wheat or Quakerpuff rice waiting for you. What kind of videos are those? Why, haven't you heard? They're the swellest tasting breakfast cereals from here to White Horse. They're the famous cereal shot from guns. Shot from guns? Yep. Quakerpuff rice and Quakerpuff wheat are actually shot from guns to make them deliciously crisp and tender. They're exploded up, up, up two eight times normal size. That makes them bigger and better tasting. Well, that's a new one on me. Yes, sir. They're magnified, crispified. Shot through and through with bang-up nut-like flavor, too. I guess I'll do a little prospecting on that Quakerpuff rice and Quakerpuff wheat. Believe me, your appetite sure strikes it rich when you pour out a heaping bowl full of those tenderly crisp melt-in-your-mouth king-sized kernels of wheat or rice shot from guns. Don't I have to cook them or nothing? No cooking. Just add milk or cream on top with your favorite fruit. Mighty handy for a busy gold prospector. For any busy person and mighty nourishing, too, Quakerpuff wheat and Quakerpuff rice furnish added food values of restored natural grain amounts of vitamin B1, niacin, and iron. I'm going to get me a sack of them right away. Not a sack, gold timer. Quakerpuff rice and wheat are never sold in bags or bulk. And that's something for you fellas and girls to remember, too. Always look for the big red and blue boxes with a smiling Quaker man on the front. Then you'll be sure to get the original crisp, fresh, delicious Quakerpuff wheat and Quakerpuff rice. Now to continue. It was late afternoon when Sergeant Preston left 40 mile and headed up the Bear Creek Trail. On, King! On, your husband! Once more the Mountie felt the fury of the storm and King led the dog team along the wind-swept drift-covered trail northward. Preston reasoned that Jenkins was smart enough to stick to the trail and would take cover at the first opportunity. Though the blizzard was, in a way, an aiding factor that would keep the hunted man from moving on, Preston also knew it was an enemy that could bring about his own death if at worst circumstances should arise. His progress was slow, but still he pushed on. On, King! Take the wave on! Push! Push! After three hours of torturous travel and dispersed with short periods of rest, Sergeant Preston reached a part of the trail that ran along an icy ridge. The snow had stopped falling, but the wind was still blowing strongly. Okay! And a tough going, eh, fella? The wind swept the trail clean of Drift's King. The frozen crust along this had to move carefully. Wind's almost strong enough now to blow us into the ravine. Let's go, fella! All right! Once more they moved on, bucking the wind that blew in a queen sweep across the high ridge. Gradually the ridge curves so that within a short time the gale was hitting from the side, and at times making the heavy sled slide dangerously near the edge. Preston frantically jammed the scraping footbreak and called the team as one of the main harness depth growth, swinging the sled partially sideways. For a moment Preston stood breathing heavily as he noticed how close to the edge of the ridge trail the sled had swung. It was close! Almost had a serious accident, King. Had to fix that stub in a hurry, but I had to look at it. Stepping around the sled, Preston started along the few feet of space between the sled and the edge of the ravine. Suddenly, for the sharp cracking noise the overhanging ledge of icy snow gave way. Prantically the Mountie tried to throw himself toward the sled in safety, and then with a cry he hurtled downward into the deep narrow ravine. Landing in deep snow at the bottom of the ravine, Sergeant Preston lay for a moment without moving, and then he slowly struggled to his feet. I don't seem to be hurt. The snow drift eased my fall, but it was sure like the breath out of me. The moment he stared at the steep walls of the ravine, and he inwardly berated himself for not being more careful. A quick look around convinced the Mountie that there was no way out of the ravine, which was closed off all around by sheer, steep walls of ice. Realizing that help had to get to him as soon as possible, if he were to get out alive, he called to King on the ridge above. King! King! The Constable boy, get the Constable! Go on, fella, get the Constable! King, boy, hurry! Bring that here, King! For a short moment, the great dog stood whining and looking down at his master, and then, with a flash of understanding, the intelligent dog barking furiously started back along the trail toward Forty Mile. Meanwhile, in an old cabin a short distance up the trail where the ridge ended, Tom Jenkins stood staring through a window. The snow has stopped now. If that wind had died down, I bet I'd take a chance on hitting the trail again. With luck, I could cross the border in a few hours. I didn't dare risk getting that storm up to now. I'll start getting some grub together. As Tom turned from the window, a distant sound carried by the wind caused him to stop and listen intently. A dog barking. It might be the Constable, but I was sure he wouldn't attempt to buck the storm. I have to find out, I just have to. I'll take my rifle and walk around the bend in the trail. Quickly putting on his parka, Tom took his rifle and left the cabin. He walked the 200 yards to the point where there was a bend in the trail. From there, he could see along the ridge trail. The eerie light of the Yukon, combined with the whiteness of the snow-covered terrain, made it bright enough to see for some distance. As Tom rounded the bend, he stopped and held his rifle in readiness as he saw an empty sled with a dog team resting on the snow. A dog sled. There's no one in sight. There's no place for anyone to hide. He stood a few moments watching, and then, with cautious steps, he moved slowly forward to investigate. As he approached, the sled dog stood up and started barking. Nobody's with a sled that certain. Quiet! Quiet, you huskies! Holy smoke, somebody's in the ravine. Tom moved to the edge of the ravine, then stopped and looked downward. A mountain. Sergeant Preston. Lincoln! Tom Jenkins! Sergeant! Were you coming after me? That's all I was. I stepped on an overhanging wedge. You don't help me out of here all freeze today. I'm accused of murder. If I leave you there, I can get across the border and make it to the States. I know. You can't refuse to help a man in a spot like this, Tom. I'll help you on one condition, Sergeant. I can't bargain with you, Tom. I'm able. It's my duty to take you back. Then I won't help you out. I won't go back to be hanged for a murder I didn't commit. If you didn't commit that murder, Tom, must thing to do is stay and try to prove your innocence. If you don't help me, you will have a death on your hands for sure. No. I've decided. I'm gonna get my dog sled and head for the border while I've still got the chance. Ma'am, I'm sorry, Sergeant. So long. After Tom Jenkins left, Sergeant Preston fought the desire to call him back to promise Jenkins anything for his health. Preston clamped his teeth together to prevent giving voice to the words that welled up in his throat. Self-preservation was a strong human instinct, but he's pledged to perform his duty at the upper hand within the mountain. He knew it was a challenge, a challenge of Yukon wind and cold and ice that would mean death, perhaps, before the Great Dog King could return with help. But Sergeant Preston decided to meet that challenge rather than to compromise his devotion to duty. There's no use. I can't take his help if it means a promise to let him go. I won't do it. Twenty minutes passed. Twenty minutes of freezing winds howling over a prospective victim. Preston knew too well the results of his creeping insidious Sub-Zero cold. He was determined to fight off this enemy as long as possible, but time was an added weapon to the elements of the Yukon winter. He moved above for better circulation and looked hopelessly at the icy walls that hemmed him in. Suddenly, his eyes caught movement at the top of the ridge. Then he gazed up into the eyes of Tom Jenkins. Tom, I thought you'd left. I couldn't do it, Sergeant. I couldn't go any further. I hadn't come back. You're going to get me out? Yes. I've brought a rope from the cabin. I can't promise you anything, Tom. I don't expect it to. Get ready to grab the rope when I throw it down. Right. I'll have you out of there in a few minutes. After the rescue, the two men and the dog team went to the cabin where Preston could get warmth and rest. Tom said little while they had hot coffee. Then Sergeant Preston spoke. Tom, I haven't changed my mind. I have to take you back. I knew you wouldn't change, Sergeant. You could have left me and made it to the border. Yeah, I know, but I couldn't leave a man to die. I know you couldn't. I don't believe you could kill a man either. I'm taking you back, Tom, but I'll do everything possible to find out just who did kill old Jake. Well, let's get back to 40 mile. Just outside of 40 mile on the trail, Preston and Tom met the constable. After a quick explanation, they all returned to the constable's office. A short time later, Sergeant Preston and Tom were talking to the constable while King lay nearby. Tom saved my life, Constable, even though he could have made a getaway by leaving me there. I couldn't leave you, Sergeant. What's more, I didn't kill Jake. And the Sergeant convinced me it was best to try to prove myself innocent. By saving the sergeants you showed you aren't a killer. King's actions when he got here made me sure something had happened, but we couldn't have reached there in time. I feel sure of that. Now we have to think about Jake's murder, Ned. There's one thing, Sergeant, that set me thinking. What's that? The glove, Tom's glove. It was found by Jake's back porch. It was clean and dry when Rusty Jackson gave it to me. Sure about that? Yes. It's here in my desk drawer. Here it is. Well, that was one of a new pair of gloves I'd never worn. They were missing after I was robbed in my cabin. But I got panicky when Rusty showed it to me and said it was found to Jake's. It snowed all night. The night Jake was murdered, didn't you say, Ned? That's right. Well, that glove would have been hidden under the snow, but it wouldn't be easily found. And it would have been frozen stiff if Rusty brought it to you as soon as he found it, as he says. That's right. That's what I was thinking. Rusty Jackson lied when he said he found that glove the day after the murder. And he and Dave Baxter were the ones who supposedly discovered the body. Tom, you stay here with King. The constable and I have some unfinished business to attend to with the cabin Baxter and Jackson share. We'll catch them off guard. That's what I'm hoping. Come on. In their cabin, Dave and Rusty were talking. Here, Sergeant Pressin' come to turn the day and start it out after Jenkins. I reckon Jenkins is over the border by this time and still going. That storm was enough to slow the Mountie down anyway. By morning, the wind ought to be down and the storm blowing out. We'll pack up and head away from here. I wonder who that is. I'd have had my gun handy. Go open the door. All right. We want to talk to you and Jackson Baxter. Yeah? Come on in. Thought you went after Jenkins, Sergeant? I did, and he's here in town. But we're not satisfied that he's the man we want. You got enough on him to prove he is. That's your Parker hanging there, Jackson? Yeah. What about it? Mind if I look it over? Hey, I don't get this. Neither do I. I noticed you were holding a gun. Rusty was just being careful. Sergeant, look here. You recognize this glove? The mate to the one said to be found at Jake's. Hey, get away from there. No, you don't. There you are. Don't move, Baxter. There's a poke of gold in Rusty's Parker, too. The initials T.J. on the bank. These two robbed Jenkins and they robbed and killed Jake. Now, we can be sure of that. You'll both hang. No, no, you can't pin that on me. Rusty's on it. Baxter plans to blame him, Jenkins. That's enough, Jackson. You can talk later. Well, Ned, we know enough now to take them in for Jake's murder. That planted glove gave them a way to begin with. We'll take them in, Sergeant. They'll talk enough. Even if they don't, I can complete the case against them. That's right. And now Tom Jenkins has cleared. As far as I'm concerned, Ned, this case is closed. In just a moment, Sergeant Preston will give you a preview of Monday's adventure. Remember, here's the breakfast that wins the praise of so many top action Hollywood movie stars. It's delicious, tenderly crisp, nourishing Quakerpuff's wheat or Quakerpuff's rice. Your family, too, will go for the tempting taste and nut-like flavor of wheat or rice shot from guns. You'll want to try them starting tomorrow. Remember, to get the original crisp, fresh shot from gun cereal, always look for the famous big red and blue package with the smiling Quakerman on the front. They're never sold in bags or bulk. Get Quakerpuff's wheat and Quakerpuff's rice. Listen Monday, when Sergeant Preston and Yukon King meet the challenge of the Yukon in the case Copper Gulch Patrol. When Constable Joe Carson was murdered, King and I had to take his personal belongings to his parents. On this patrol, an unusual turn of events brought me face to face with the three men who had killed Joe Carson. I was trapped and outnumbered by desperate outlaws who would stop at nothing to escape the hangman. Be sure to hear this exciting adventure Monday. These radio dramas, a feature of the challenge of the Yukon Incorporated, are created and produced by George W. Trenville, directed by Fred Flower Day and supervised by Charles D. Livingston. 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 Quakerpuff's wheat and Quakerpuff's rice. The breakfast cereal shot from gun. For a delicious hot breakfast, eat Quakeroats. The giant of the cereals is Quakeroats. Delicious, nutritious, makes you feel ambitious. The giant of the cereals is Quakeroats. Say boys and girls, do you want to be a star someday in sports and activities? Then start on good Quakeroats breakfast tomorrow, because nourishing oatmeal gives you more growth and endurance than any other whole grain cereal. Remember, Quaker and mother's oats are the same. This is J. Michael wishing you good bye, good luck and good health from Quakerpuff wheat and Quakerpuff's rice.