 The challenge of the Yukon. 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-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. The cabin was warm, and the noisy flames in the large stone hearth spilled eerie shadows into the far corners of the room. It shadowed two, then boldly exposed, the expressions on the faces of the brother and sister, the girl whose dark eyes flashed contentiously and the man stolid and phlegmatic. Behind them stood Tracy Allison, holding the girl's mackinaw over his arm. You're not going with them, Paula, and that's that. So you can hang her mackinaw up again, Allison, and hit the trail back to town. Don't you do any such thing, Tracy. I am going out with Malcolm, and you're not going to stop me. No? What have you got against me, Buchanan? I've never done anything to you. I don't have anything against you, so long as you stay away from Paula. It's not having anything to do with any cheap gambler. That's for me to say. And if I don't stay away from her? If you don't, I'll smash that right pretty face of yours so that you won't be able to stand the stride of it. How dare you talk like this? I'll show you again. It's fairly obvious that I'm not welcome here, so I'll be on my way, Paula. I'll leave your mackinaw in the chair. Good night, Paula. Good night, Buchanan. Well, you certainly fixed that up nicely. I just told him what the score is, that's all. He didn't take much convincing. That gambler isn't good enough for you, Paula. Suppose you let me decide what's good enough for me. I'm sick of your interference in my affairs. Oh, you're just being unreasonable. If you're so concerned for me, then why don't you let me go back to the States instead of rotting up here in this wilderness, seeing the same people day after day, doing the same things, wearing the same clothes, living in a cabin. We'll both go back to the States. You've been saying that for the last six months. Where are we? Here. Where we'll be until the day we die. What good is gold if you can't do something with it? There's still so much to be done with a mind, and, well, I just don't trust anybody else to do it. I've got to stay for another couple of months, Paula. All right, you stay. Mark my words, I'm not going to. I've given you fair warning, and I mean every word I say. Several weeks passed, and then one day, Sergeant Preston stood outside the small cabin talking to Malcolm Buchanan. Both men turned their eyes toward the sled, fading into the distance. Don't be offended that Paula's hurrying off, she did, Sergeant. She takes every excuse she can to get into town these days. She does seem to be discontented. Putting it mildly, I suppose you notice that she barely talks to me. I've been that way for the last couple of weeks. Well, it isn't the easiest life in the world for a young girl up here, Mel. How the likes gave a lot of people around her. She's very attractive, you know. Yes, she is. And just as soon as I can, I'm taking her back to the States. She's then wanting to go back alone. Why don't you let her go? Well, I promised Dad before he died that I'd always keep my eye on her. She's headstrong. Dad knew that. She's more like mother than I am. Stravagan, attractive, thoughtless. And Dad was just the opposite. Yes, I remember your father very well. It's too bad that he died such a short time before you struck gold. He knew it was there. I don't think he ever knew just how rich it would be. But you see, Sergeant Paula's a rich girl. I don't want somebody to marry her just for one year. Why don't you take your responsibility too seriously, Mel? I wouldn't worry. Paula will be all right. I hope so. Come on down the mine. I want to show you how far I've gone with it. Meanwhile, in a small restaurant in Monroe, all of you cannons sat at a table talking to Tracy Allison. You say you left him with Sergeant Preston? Mm-hmm. Tracy, why don't you give up gambling, darling? I wish it were as simple as that, Paula. I've been making my living at it for a long time. And there's a saying, once a gambler, always a gambler. Preston will probably agree with your brother. What do you mean? I'd like to talk to Malcolm. I think it would be best if I talked to him when you weren't there. I'd rather marry you with his consent than without it. But as long as Preston's in the picture, I won't have a chance. We've got to keep him away from your brother. I don't see how in the world you're ever... You can do it, Paula. But how? By centering his interest on you. That mouth is only human. But everyone in the Yukon knows Sergeant Preston is practically married to his job. Besides, I... There isn't a man on two feet who wouldn't be flattered by the attention of a beautiful woman. It's only that I don't want your brother to be any more prejudiced against me than he is. Well... You've got to trust me, darling. Keep Preston away from your brother and leave the rest to me. It was late that afternoon. Paula had left Monroe to return to the cabin. But Tracy Allison had gone to the town's leading cafe. His eyes swept the long ruin. Well, Allison... Hi, Hank. I was just looking for you. Yeah, well, that makes us even. You got the cash on you? Let's sit down over here. I want to talk to you for a few minutes. Look, I'm not interested in talk. All I want to do is turn that IOU over to you. And you got till 10 o'clock tonight to make it good. That's what I wanted to see you about. Make it till 10 o'clock tomorrow night, Hank, and I'll have it for you in gold. You've been stalling on this for the last two weeks. About all I can do is to have you run out of town if you don't pay it. That or take it out of your hide. Well, what are you planning to do? Get out before I run you out? Me get out of town? Listen, Hank, I got good reasons for wanting to stay here. And I give you my word, the note will be paid off in full tomorrow night. At the cabin, several miles north of town, a walk back from the mine with Sergeant Preston, a girl snowshoes cutting their racket-like shape in the snow. I suppose Malcolm will stay at the mine till it becomes too dark to see anything. But it's so nice that you're here, Sergeant. Well, thank you, Miss Buchanan. King and I are always glad to see you, old friend. I never used to see very much of you when you'd come by to see Father. Though I do remember how he'd talk about King. He said your dog was the finest in the Yukon. I'll impress me, snowshoes. Oh, here, let me do it for you. Oh, thank you. You know, Father always said that you and King divided the credit for every case you solved. Personally, I don't see why the best man on the force should divide credit with anyone, let alone a dog. But he is a beautiful animal. As the girl caressed the back of a great Malamute's neck with their gloved hand, King turned away indifferently. Instinctively, he dislocated her, for he perceived in her voice a ring of insincerity. An insincerity he didn't understand, so he realized his master was unaware of it. King knew better than to display animosity in any fashion, except by an obvious indifference to her false interest in him. It was late the next morning. King and Sergeant Preston had stayed at the Buchanan cabin, bunking in front of the fireplace for the night. A light snow fell outdoors, and Malcolm had already left to go to the mine. Eh, that's about all I guess. Well, King and I are very grateful to you and your brother for your hospitality. He's all Sergeant. We're glad to have company. Oh, uh, incidentally, it's, uh, well, it's really no concern of mine, except that Mal and I have been friends for a long time. But, uh, well, I don't like to see him worried when he's got every reason to feel he's on top of the world. What do you mean? He says that you're unhappy up here, which is not unreasonable from your point of view. But, uh, he told me that in another few months you're both going back to the States, where you'll have all the things you miss so much now. He told you that? Yes. I thought you might feel a little less resentful if you knew. I see. I suppose I haven't been very helpful. And two people are pulling in opposite directions. They never get anywhere. Perhaps you're right. Yes, we'll be on the trail, fellas. Get into my parka. I think Malcolm might like it if I took some soup down to him. Sounds like a good idea to me. At least that's one way to begin making a man. The door of the cabin opened, and a girl went out into the snow ahead of the mountain. She waved to him gaily, and then with her head bent against the wind, walked toward the mine. While Sergeant Preston fastened his pack to the sled, and King took his place in front of the team, preparing to set off in the opposite direction. Take about a mile for me. I will, Sergeant. Good luck. As all of you cannon approached the mine, her head was bent so that she didn't see Tracy Allinson on the trail. Until it was too late to go back to Sergeant Preston for help. Now to get this dynamite charred set? That'll look accidental. You cannon got careless working with it. Paula! Tracy! What are you doing? What happened to Malcolm? It's heavy. You're going mad? Don't worry, Paula. I'm not going to shoot you. I don't want this to look like anything but an accident. Oh, you miserable coward. I should have known. You should have known what? That you're no good. Rotten. You little wildcat. You hurt Malcolm. I'd listened to him in the first place. You'll never get away with this, Tracy. I'll get away with it, all right. The snow will cover my tracks. Now to set up the pier. Running ahead of his master's pack, as they started over the trail, the great Malamute's key ears tilted forward, ruled as he was to awareness of sound and sense that might indicate the presence of danger for Preston, long before he sighted the sources of them, King immediately recognized the faint voice carried to him by the wind. It was the woman of the false, insincere voice, the one he disliked so intensely because he sensed she had tried to deceive his master. King turned and realized Preston had not heard. There was no falseness in her voice just then. It held instead fury, fury strung tight and shot through with sparks of horror and fear. King turned abruptly in his tracks, like a bow for an arrow, he went swiftly unerringly towards the source of the voice. Tracy Allison knelt low to strike the match, then he held it to the fuse, long and twisted to allow him plenty of time to reach safety. A slow smile spread over his face, but as he braced his hand to rise, he heard the dog, grancing over his shoulder, he had barely seen the Malamute when King jumped, breaking with such force that the man was not sure. He fell, his head heading the pile of stones on the floor. When Preston approached the entrance of the mine almost a minute later, he found King, his strong fangs buried in Paul of Buchanan's Mackinaw, dragging the girl to the snow outside. King, King, what? That sounds like... That was close. Another 30 seconds of... Mal, Mal, that's a mischief, hmm? This stranger thought that he... Oh, silly man, you'll be all right. Oh, my head is... Allison, he must have done the one who hit me. He's been in here waiting. What happened? Sergeant, how in the world did he ever get here? He was going to dynamite the mine. He was going to kill us all. Never mind reaching for that gun. You're covered. I'm out. There are a lot of things that have to be explained, but one thing is sure, you're under arrest for attempted murder. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. Yes, fella, 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 are sent to you each week at this same time.