 The challenge of the Yukon. The wonder dog king, swiftest and strongest of Eskimo lead dogs, blazes the trail through storm and snow for Sergeant Preston, as he meets the challenge of the Yukon. Sergeant Preston was typical of a 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 him, Sergeant Preston and his wonder dog king met that challenge and justice ruled triumphant. Bob Andrews, trapper in the Yukon, had made a fine catch of Martin. With his heavy load of furs, he was nearing the spot on Copper River where he had buried his food and supplies for safekeeping. Coming up silently in the snow, he discovered an Indian stealing his precious supplies. To rob a man of his food was a major crime in the Yukon and Bob Andrews quick temper flared as he stole up sandly behind the Indian, twisted him around and dealt him a heavy blow right into the ground. Call up you with you this time, you thief and rat. Now maybe you'll think twice before you try that trick again. You, you got no right. Get Black Hawk. What have you got in this bag? Oh, no, you don't. There. That'll teach you to pull a knife on me, you buzzard. Now get out of here before you can still walk. Black Hawk, work night. I think I'm crazy. Get out of here. I'm keeping this knife. You stick it between my shoulder blades the first chance you got. Now get. You be sorry. Black Hawk, now forget. It was late afternoon a week later when Sergeant Plustin was heading toward town with his dog team led by the great malamute lead dog, King. He were about ten miles from town when suddenly the great dog stopped and sniffed the air. Come on, King. What's the matter with you? What are you stopping for? Mmm, smell smoke, don't you? So do I. Not campfire smoke, either. There it is. Looks as though there's a cabin on fire. Come on, you malamutes. Let's go! On you, malamutes! Boy, what a blaze. Hello, anybody here? Come on, King. Maybe we better have a quick look in there before that cabin collapses. As Plustin looked in the door, the fire cast a weird light in the interior of the small room. The roof of the cabin was thought to cave in when suddenly Plustin saw the figure of a woman lying on the floor, a gage in her forehead. As he rushed to take her from the cabin, he heard a cry. Great heavens, a baby! King! Get it, boy, they're on the floor! Get it quick, fella! Come on, King! You made it, King. There goes the cabin. Now I'll help you, fella. Well, they're now youngster, you're all right. Can't blame you much, old man. Don't know what scared you more. Fire is a big dog. Well, now stop crying. You and your mother are going for sleigh ride. Let's see, I guess old Frenchie de Vries' place is nearest. Well, Sergeant Preston, come in. Guess you better come out and help me, Frenchie. I got a baby and a woman on my sled. Get them. Found the cabin on fire. Help me carry them in. She's unconscious. That is Mrs. Andrews. I carry her. You bring kids. Get easy, Frenchie. Come on, young fella, we're going in where it's warm. Yes, you can come too, King. Come along. What'll I do with the kid? Gosh, I don't know anything about babies. Hey, you stop yelling. You're okay. Put him on, flag it on floor. He'll be all right. Now stop screaming. You're not heard. There now. Now, I still have a look at your mother. You say this was Mrs. Andrews? Bob Andrews' wife? We should come here two months ago. Get some water, Frenchie. It's a drastic crack on the head, but I think she'll be all right. Easy now. Get his water. She'll be conscious soon. All we can do is let her rest and be quiet. Where is Bob Andrews? He passed this morning on his way to town. He said he'd be back sometime tomorrow. I suppose he went in for supplies. Guess I better go after him. Mrs. Andrews will be all right. Just keep cool claws on the head and keep her quiet. Look, King is licking the kid's face. King, King, quit it. You'll scare him to death. Guess you're just as bad a nursemaid as I am. Come on, boy. We're going to town. See you later, Frenchie. I'll find Bob Andrews and bring him back. The next morning, Preston and Bob Andrews were back at Frenchie's cabin. They found Mrs. Andrews pale and weak from shock, but able to talk. Will it bother you to tell us what happened, Mary? No, I'm all right now. I can tell you. Is your head better? It hurts a little. I can't thank you enough, Sergeant. You're saving the baby. Well, don't bother about that. We want to hear what happened. It was not even Indian, wasn't it? Yes. Yes, it was an Indian. He came in while I was feeding the baby. He wanted money. Is that a dirty rat? I told him I had no money, and he threatened to kill me. I guess I lost my head a little. I put the baby down and rushed for the gun. He took it from me. That's all I remember. Why that rotten murder and weasel? That dirty coward. I shouldn't have tried to get the gun. I'll be able to prep his trail from the cabin. Preston, I'm going with you. You'd better stay here, Bob. He tried to burn my wife and baby alive. I won't rest till he's caught. I see how he must feel. But your wife and baby? Frenchie will be here for me, won't you, Frenchie? I got three week supplies on my sled out here. You take them, Frenchie. Sure, I'll watch out for them. I like baby around cabin. He's company of old man like me. Preston had difficulty restraining Bob Andrews. Young and hot-tempered, he wanted neither to eat nor sleep until he got his hands on Black Hawk. Over the frozen ground they raced. By sunset, they had reached the foot of the mountains where Preston suddenly turned off the trail. I'm king this way, fellas. Preston, we're leaving the trail. We're leaving this way. We're spending the night at Tom Kramer's cabin, Bob. About a half-mile from here. That ain't dark yet. We could go a few miles farther. We won't find another place like this to camp. I don't need it's not far ahead. We'll start out at dawn tomorrow. Preston! Come on, Bob. Stop arguing. Only a man of yours! Oh, fucking! Here we are. There's Tom. Oh, Sergeant! Would you like some company for the night, Tom? I'm glad to have you anytime. Hello, Bob Andrews. Tom Kramer. Howdy. Come on in. Make yourselves to home. I'll have some supper ready, Sergeant. I wish we didn't have to stop. We both need sleep, Bob. Oh, are you trailing somebody, Sergeant? Yes, Tom. We're after an Indian. He's headed up the mountains. I can't wait till I kill the car. Bob, I was hoping you'd cool off a little by now. Cool off? I won't until I fill him full of bullacles. No, you can't do a thing to him. What do you mean? I happen to be the law around here. I appreciate how you feel, but I can't let you kill him, you know. Preston, my wife, my baby... I know, but his punishment is the law's affair. Man, you can't mean you won't let me deal with... Sorry, Bob, but that's exactly what I mean. I guess you'd better go out and cut some spruce branches for our beds. I'll feed the dogs. Use my hatchet, Bob, there against the wall. You won't have to bother getting yours. All right. Preston, I might as well be honest with you. I'm gonna kill that Indian law and the law. And face the consequences. He was pretty determined, wasn't he? Yes, Tom. I wish I'd made him stay home. Well, I guess I'd better clear the table and get some supper on it. Is this your rifle? No, that's Bob's. Get to me. I'll put it over here in the corner. It was after midnight, and Bob Andrews lay wide-eyed on his bed in the cabin. The heavy breathing of Preston and snores of Tom told him they were sleeping soundly. Quietly, he crept from his bed, picked up his rifle, and stole silently out into the arctic night. The rising moon lighted his path as he headed back to the mountain trail. Preston awoke as early dawn was breaking. I guess time to show the world. Bob. Hey, Bob. Bob! You fellow statin' this early, sir? Bob's gone. Gone? What do you mean? He must have sneaked off in the middle of the night, and he's taking his gun. Well, for the love of Pete, I didn't hear nothin'. I've gotta stop him, Tom. Oh, you don't stand much chance at catchin' him if he gets a couple of hours' start. He's too tired to go very fast. But if I can't catch him, King can. I'll send King ahead after him. Hold him till I get there. Come on, King. King, see this trail? Get him, boy. Get even hold him. Hold him till I get there. On, King! Later that morning, Bob Andrews was plotting up the mountain slope. He didn't know that ahead of him, higher up in the mountain, he was being watched by the sharp black guys of Black Hawk, who crouched behind a boulder, his rifle ready. Suddenly Bob heard something behind him, and saw the form of a huge dog rushing upon him. Why, it's King. King, why are you... Hey, come on, boy, you fool. I ain't the one you're after. Look out the way, you jerk. No, you fool. If I can't get a hold of my rifle, I'll kill him. Ow! Go on, boy, arm. I can't kill you, you devil of a dog. Further down the slope, Preston and Tom raced practically up the trail. It can't be far ahead. Thanks to Coddy for this time. I'm surprised we impwned him by now. Hey, look! Way up the side ahead, then. See that big rock? There's somebody behind there. That's somebody shooting. Tom, that's Black Hawk. He must be shooting at Bob. It sure is. We've got to hurry. Preston, stop, look. That rock and snow above Black Hawk. It's moving. Great, Scott, those shots. They've started an avalanche. Well, that's the last of Black Hawk. Gosh, what a sight. Poor devil. Come on, Tom. Let's hope King and Bob weren't the path of it, too. After what seemed ours to Preston of toiling up the steep trail, he heard a faint cry and came upon the half-buried figures of Bob and King. The great dog still crouched over Bob. Bob? King? Are you all right? Help. Help. Get me out of here. They're alive anyway. They weren't right on the path of it. Help, Preston. We're almost buried. Don't worry, Bob. We'll have you up in a minute. King boy, you're still alive. I think we can pull him out. Oh! You're safe. Can you stand? I guess I'm just bruised. Hold on to me. King saved you a lot of injuries. Poor old fellow. You really had to take it this time. Come on, boy. Let me look at you. Oh, no bones broken. Some bad cuts on his back. What's that blood on his neck from? Looks as if a bullet creased him. Gosh, you're sure lucky, Bob. He saved your life. Saved my life. I was almost killed on account of him. I gotta shut that dirty end in with this fool dog. Help me here. Wouldn't let me get my asshole. He thought I was the one he was supposed to catch. King was following orders, Bob. You mean you told him to hold me? Yes. He told to hold you until I got here. You mean you were trying to save the life of that dirty red skin at the risk of mine? I was trying to save your life, Bob. It didn't occur to me that you'd sneak off last night the way you did. I knew you were planning to kill Black Hawk, so while you riled the cabin last night, I took all the bullets out of your gun. My gun was empty? You'd have been quite helpless if you'd caught up with Black Hawk. As it was, like heaven, nature took a hand in it. Nature did a pretty good job, too. You'll never harm anyone again. Come on, King Boy. We'll take it easy going down. Won't take long for those bruises to heal. Yes, we can rest now, boy. It looks like that heap of rubble at the bottom of the mountain. 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 summed to each week at the same time and reach you from our transcription studios. How, Neil, speaking, this is the Michigan Radio Network.