It was late one winter afternoon. Sergeant Preston was strolling along Front Street in Dawson City, with the great dog, King at his side. A man was standing on the boardwalk, looking around uncertainly. He was a young man with a swarthy complexion and a black mustache, but what made him particularly noticeable was his towering height. Though more slenderly built that the Mountie, he was several inches taller than Sergeant Preston.