Arthur Applin

Blackthorn Farm Arthur Applin

Publisher Marketing: Rupert Dale sat at the writing-table before the open windows of his sitting-room in Clanton Street, Westminster. It was a glorious summer morning. The sun had torn aside the grey mantle from the face of London. The roofs and spires of the city shone. The trees rustled their leaves in the warm breeze. The roar of traffic echoed in his ears. Rupert stretched himself, sighed, and leant back in his chair. His table was littered with papers. There were letters, bills, advertisements-principally from tipsters and bookmakers-and the examination papers which had been set him at his third attempt to pass the final examination of the School of Mining Engineers. The result was due to-day, and Rupert had intended going down to the hall to find out whether he had passed or not. But he was afraid. He had failed twice already. He could not afford to fail a third time. If he failed ruin faced him, and disgrace. His father had warned him that the money he had saved for his education had come to an end. Ruin for his father and his little sister! He had no idea how deeply Rupert was in debt. Rupert himself had only just realised it. And in desperation he had gambled to save himself. He had backed a horse on the big race to be run that day for more money than he possessed. He had staked honour and love on a horse he had never even seen. If it won he was saved. He could face his father, pay his debts, and, supposing he had failed, go up yet once again for his final examination.