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100% found this document useful (4 votes)
63 views

Building Java Programs A Back to Basics Approach 4th Edition Reges Test Bank download pdf

The document provides links to download various test banks and solutions manuals for educational materials, particularly focusing on programming and business subjects. It includes specific references to the 'Building Java Programs' series and other related textbooks. Additionally, it contains sample exam questions and programming exercises related to Java and object-oriented concepts.

Uploaded by

ahcensiifan
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
Available Formats
Download as PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
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Sample Final Exam #6
(Summer 2008; thanks to Hélène Martin)

1. Array Mystery
Consider the following method:
public static void arrayMystery(String[] a) {
for (int i = 0; i < a.length; i++) {
a[i] = a[i] + a[a.length - 1 - i];
}
}
Indicate in the right-hand column what values would be stored in the array after the method arrayMystery executes
if the array in the left-hand column is passed as a parameter to it.
Original Contents of Array Final Contents of Array
String[] a1 = {"a", "b", "c"};
arrayMystery(a1); _____________________________

String[] a2 = {"a", "bb", "c", "dd"};


arrayMystery(a2); _____________________________

String[] a3 = {"z", "y", "142", "w", "xx"};


arrayMystery(a3); _____________________________

1 of 9
2. Reference Semantics Mystery
The following program produces 4 lines of output. Write the output below, as it would appear on the console.
public class Pokemon {
int level;

public Pokemon(int level) {


this.level = level;
}
}

public class ReferenceMystery {


public static void main(String[] args) {
int hp = 10;
Pokemon squirtle = new Pokemon(5);

battle(squirtle, hp);
System.out.println("Level " + squirtle.level + ", " + hp + " hp");

hp = hp + squirtle.level;

battle(squirtle, hp + 1);
System.out.println("Level " + squirtle.level + ", " + hp + " hp");
}

public static void battle(Pokemon poke, int hp) {


poke.level++;
hp -= 5;
System.out.println("Level " + poke.level + ", " + hp + " hp");
}
}

2 of 9
3. Inheritance Mystery
Assume that the following classes have been defined:

public class Dog extends Cat { public class Cat {


public void m1() { public void m1() {
m2(); System.out.print("cat 1 ");
System.out.print("dog 1 "); }
}
} public void m2() {
System.out.print("cat 2 ");
public class Lion extends Dog { }
public void m2() {
System.out.print("lion 2 "); public String toString() {
super.m2(); return "cat";
} }
}
public String toString() {
return "lion";
}
}
Given the classes above, what output is produced by the following code?
Cat[] elements = {new Dog(), new Cat(), new Lion()};
for (int i = 0; i < elements.length; i++) {
elements[i].m1();
System.out.println();
elements[i].m2();
System.out.println();
System.out.println(elements[i]);
System.out.println();
}

3 of 9
4. File Processing
Write a static method evaluate that accepts as a parameter a Scanner containing a series of tokens representing a
numeric expression involving addition and subtraction and that returns the value of the expression. For example, if a
Scanner called data contains the following tokens:
4.2 + 3.4 - 4.1
The call of evaluate(data); should evaluate the result as (4.2+3.4-4.1) = (7.6-4.1) = 3.5 and should return this
value as its result. Every expression will begin with a real number and then will have a series of operator/number
pairs that follow. The operators will be either + (addition) or - (subtraction). As in the example above, there will be
spaces separating numbers and operators. You may assume the expression is legal.
Your program should evaluate operators sequentially from left to right. For example, for this expression:
7.3 - 4.1 - 2.0
your method should evaluate the operators as follows:
7.3 - 4.1 - 2.0 = (7.3 - 4.1) - 2.0 = 3.2 - 2.0 = 1.2
The Scanner might contain just a number, in which case your method should return that number as its result.

4 of 9
5. File Processing
Write a static method blackjack that accepts as its parameter a Scanner for an input file containing a hand of
playing cards, and returns the point value of the hand in the card game Blackjack.
A card has a rank and a suit. There are 13 ranks: Ace, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, Jack, Queen, and King. There are 4
suits: Clubs, Diamonds, Hearts, and Spades. A Blackjack hand's point value is the sum of its cards' point values. A
card's point value comes from its rank; the suit is irrelevant. In this problem, cards are worth the following points:
Rank Point Value
2-10 The card's rank (for example, a 7 is worth 7 points)
Jack (J), Queen (Q), King (K) 10 points each
Ace (A) 11 points (for this problem; simplified compared to real Blackjack)
The input file contains a single hand of cards, each represented by a pair of "<rank> <suit>" tokens. For example:
5 Diamonds
Q Spades
2 Spades 3 Hearts
Given the above input, your method should return 20, since the cards' point values are 5 + 10 + 2 + 3 = 20.
The input can be in mixed casing, have odd spacing between tokens, and can be split across lines. For example:
2 Hearts
j SPADES a Diamonds
2 ClUbS
A
hearts
Given the above input, your method should return 36, since the cards' point values are 2 + 10 + 11 + 2 + 11 = 36.
You may assume that the Scanner contains at least 1 card (two tokens) of input, and that no line will contain any
tokens other than valid card data. The real game of Blackjack has many other rules that you should ignore for this
problem, such as the notion of going "bust" once you exceed a score of 21.

5 of 9
6. Array Programming
Write a static method named allPlural that accepts an array of strings as a parameter and returns true only if
every string in the array is a plural word, and false otherwise. For this problem a plural word is defined as any
string that ends with the letter S, case-insensitively. The empty string "" is not considered a plural word, but the
single-letter string "s" or "S" is. Your method should return true if passed an empty array (one with 0 elements).
The table below shows calls to your method and the expected values returned:
Array Call and Value Returned
String[] a1 = {"snails", "DOGS", "Cats"}; allPlural(a1) returns true
String[] a2 = {"builds", "Is", "S", "THRILLs", "CS"}; allPlural(a2) returns true
String[] a3 = {}; allPlural(a3) returns true
String[] a4 = {"She", "sells", "sea", "SHELLS"}; allPlural(a4) returns false
String[] a5 = {"HANDS", "feet", "toes", "OxEn"}; allPlural(a5) returns false
String[] a6 = {"shoes", "", "socks"}; allPlural(a6) returns false
For full credit, your method should not modify the array's elements.

6 of 9
7. Array Programming
Write a static method named reverseChunks that accepts two parameters, an array of integers a and an integer
"chunk" size s, and reverses every s elements of a. For example, if s is 2 and array a stores {1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6},
a is rearranged to store {2, 1, 4, 3, 6, 5}. With an s of 3 and the same elements {1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6}, array
a is rearranged to store {3, 2, 1, 6, 5, 4}. The chunks on this page are underlined for convenience.
If a's length is not evenly divisible by s, the remaining elements are untouched. For example, if s is 4 and array a
stores {5, 4, 9, 2, 1, 7, 8, 6, 2, 10}, a is rearranged to store {2, 9, 4, 5, 6, 8, 7, 1, 2, 10}.
It is also possible that s is larger than a's entire length, in which case the array is not modified at all. You may assume
that s is 1 or greater (an s of 1 would not modify the array). If array a is empty, its contents should remain unchanged.
The following table shows some calls to your method and their expected results:
Array and Call Array Contents After Call
int[] a1 = {20, 10, 30, 60, 50, 40}; {10, 20, 60, 30, 40, 50}
reverseChunks(a1, 2);
int[] a2 = {2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, 14, 16}; {6, 4, 2, 12, 10, 8, 14, 16}
reverseChunks(a2, 3);
int[] a3 = {7, 1, 3, 5, 9, 8, 2, 6, 4, 10, 0, 12}; {9, 5, 3, 1, 7, 10, 4, 6, 2, 8, 0, 12}
reverseChunks(a3, 5);
int[] a4 = {1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6}; {1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6}
reverseChunks(a4, 8);
int[] a5 = {}; {}
reverseChunks(a5, 2);

7 of 9
8. Critters
Write a class Minnow that extends Critter from HW8, along with its movement and eating behavior. All other
aspects of Minnow use the defaults. Add fields, constructors, etc. as necessary to your class.
Minnow objects initially move in a S/E/S/E/... pattern. However, when a Minnow encounters food (when its eat
method is called), it should do all of the following:
• Do not eat the food.
• Start the movement cycle over. In other words, the next move after eat is called should always be South.
• Lengthen and reverse the horizontal portion of the movement cycle pattern.
The Minnow should reverse its horizontal direction and increase its horizontal movement distance by 1 for
subsequent cycles. For example, if the Minnow had been moving S/E/S/E, it will now move S/W/W/S/W/W. If
it hits a second piece of food, it will move S/E/E/E/S/E/E/E, and a third, S/W/W/W/W/S/W/W/W/W, and so on.
?
The following is an example timeline of a particular Minnow object's movement. The ??
timeline below is also drawn in the diagram at right. Underlined occurrences mark squares ??
where the Minnow found food. ???
???
• S, E, S, E (hits food) ?
????
• S, W, W, S, W, W, S (hits food) ????
• S, E, E, E, S, E, E, E, S, E (hits food) ??
• S (hits food) ?
??????
• S, E, E, E, E, E, S, E, E, E, E, E, ...

8 of 9
9. Classes and Objects
Suppose that you are provided with a pre-written class Date as // Each Date object stores a single
described at right. (The headings are shown, but not the method // month/day such as September 19.
bodies, to save space.) Assume that the fields, constructor, and // This class ignores leap years.
methods shown are already implemented. You may refer to them
or use them in solving this problem if necessary. public class Date {
private int month;
Write an instance method named bound that will be placed inside private int day;
the Date class to become a part of each Date object's behavior.
The bound method constrains a Date to within a given range of // Constructs a date with
dates. It accepts two other Date objects d1 and d2 as parameters; // the given month and day.
public Date(int m, int d)
d1's date is guaranteed to represent a date that comes no later in
the year than d2's date. // Returns the date's day.
The bound method makes sure that this Date object is between public int getDay()
d1's and d2's dates, inclusive. If this Date object is not between
// Returns the date's month.
those dates inclusive, it is adjusted to the nearest date in the public int getMonth()
acceptable range. The method returns a result of true if this
Date was within the acceptable range, or false if it was shifted. // Returns the number of days
// in this date's month.
For example, given the following Date objects: public int daysInMonth()
Date date1 = new Date(7, 12);
Date date2 = new Date(10, 31); // Modifies this date's state
Date date3 = new Date(9, 19); // so that it has moved forward
Date bound1 = new Date(8, 4); // in time by 1 day, wrapping
Date bound2 = new Date(9, 26); // around into the next month
Date bound3 = new Date(12, 25); // or year if necessary.
// example: 9/19 -> 9/20
The following calls to your method should adjust the given Date // example: 9/30 -> 10/1
objects to represent the following dates and should return the // example: 12/31 -> 1/1
following results: public void nextDay()
call date becomes returns
date1.bound(bound1, bound2) 8/4 false
// your method would go here
date2.bound(bound1, bound2) 9/26 false
date3.bound(bound1, bound3) 9/19 true }
date2.bound(bound3, bound3) 12/25 false

9 of 9
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
situation: the two houses, built the entire depth of the lots, touched
at the rear, while the fronts of the houses faced upon two streets
that ran parallel to each other at a distance of more than sixty
metres apart.
He found the concierge and, showing his card, enquired:
“Did four men pass here just now?”
“Yes; the two servants from the fourth and fifth floors, with two
friends.”
“Who lives on the fourth and fifth floors?”
“Two men named Fauvel and their cousins, whose name is
Provost. They moved to-day, leaving the two servants, who went
away just now.”
“Ah!” thought Ganimard; “what a grand opportunity we have
missed! The entire band lived in these houses.”
And he sank down on a chair in despair.

Forty minutes later two gentlemen were driven up to the station of


the Northern Railway and hurried to the Calais express, followed by
a porter who carried their valises. One of them had his arm in a
sling, and the pallor of his face denoted some illness. The other man
was in a jovial mood.
“We must hurry, Wilson, or we will miss the train.... Ah! Wilson, I
shall never forget these ten days.”
“Neither will I.”
“Ah! it was a great struggle!”
“Superb!”
“A few repulses, here and there—”
“Of no consequence.”
“And, at last, victory all along the line. Lupin arrested! The blue
diamond recovered!”
“My arm broken!”
“What does a broken arm count for in such a victory as that?”
“Especially when it is my arm.”
“Ah! yes, don’t you remember, Wilson, that it was at the very time
you were in the pharmacy, suffering like a hero, that I discovered
the clue to the whole mystery?”
“How lucky!”
The doors of the carriages were being closed.
“All aboard. Hurry up, gentlemen!”
The porter climbed into an empty compartment and placed their
valises in the rack, whilst Sholmes assisted the unfortunate Wilson.
“What’s the matter, Wilson? You’re not done up, are you? Come,
pull your nerves together.”
“My nerves are all right.”
“Well, what is it, then?”
“I have only one hand.”
“What of it?” exclaimed Sholmes, cheerfully. “You are not the only
one who has had a broken arm. Cheer up!”
Sholmes handed the porter a piece of fifty centimes.
“Thank you, Monsieur Sholmes,” said the porter.
The Englishman looked at him; it was Arsène Lupin.
“You!... you!” he stammered, absolutely astounded.
And Wilson brandished his sound arm in the manner of a man
who demonstrates a fact as he said:
“You! you! but you were arrested! Sholmes told me so. When he
left you Ganimard and thirty men had you in charge.”
Lupin folded his arms and said, with an air of indignation:
“Did you suppose I would let you go away without bidding you
adieu? After the very friendly relations that have always existed
between us! That would be discourteous and ungrateful on my part.”
The train whistled. Lupin continued:
“I beg your pardon, but have you everything you need? Tobacco
and matches ... yes ... and the evening papers? You will find in them
an account of my arrest—your last exploit, Monsieur Sholmes. And
now, au revoir. Am delighted to have made your acquaintance. And
if ever I can be of any service to you, I shall be only too happy....”
He leaped to the platform and closed the door.
“Adieu,” he repeated, waving his handkerchief. “Adieu.... I shall
write to you.... You will write also, eh? And your arm broken,
Wilson.... I am truly sorry.... I shall expect to hear from both of you.
A postal card, now and then, simply address: Lupin, Paris. That is
sufficient.... Adieu.... See you soon.”
CHAPTER VII.
THE JEWISH LAMP.

Herlock Sholmes and Wilson were sitting in front of the fireplace,


in comfortable armchairs, with the feet extended toward the grateful
warmth of a glowing coke fire.
Sholmes’ pipe, a short brier with a silver band, had gone out. He
knocked out the ashes, filled it, lighted it, pulled the skirts of his
dressing-gown over his knees, and drew from his pipe great puffs of
smoke, which ascended toward the ceiling in scores of shadow rings.
Wilson gazed at him, as a dog lying curled up on a rug before the
fire might look at his master, with great round eyes which have no
hope other than to obey the least gesture of his owner. Was the
master going to break the silence? Would he reveal to Wilson the
subject of his reverie and admit his satellite into the charmed realm
of his thoughts?
When Sholmes had maintained his silent attitude for some time.
Wilson ventured to speak:
“Everything seems quiet now. Not the shadow of a case to occupy
our leisure moments.”
Sholmes did not reply, but the rings of smoke emitted by Sholmes
were better formed, and Wilson observed that his companion drew
considerable pleasure from that trifling fact—an indication that the
great man was not absorbed in any serious meditation. Wilson,
discouraged, arose and went to the window.
The lonely street extended between the gloomy façades of grimy
houses, unusually gloomy this morning by reason of a heavy
downfall of rain. A cab passed; then another. Wilson made an entry
of their numbers in his memorandum-book. One never knows!
“Ah!” he exclaimed, “the postman.”
The man entered, shown in by the servant.
“Two registered letters, sir ... if you will sign, please?”
Sholmes signed the receipts, accompanied the man to the door,
and was opening one of the letters as he returned.
“It seems to please you,” remarked Wilson, after a moment’s
silence.
“This letter contains a very interesting proposition. You are
anxious for a case—here’s one. Read——”
Wilson read:

“Monsieur,
“I desire the benefit of your services and
experience. I have been the victim of a serious theft,
and the investigation has as yet been unsuccessful. I
am sending to you by this mail a number of
newspapers which will inform you of the affair, and if
you will undertake the case, I will place my house at
your disposal and ask you to fill in the enclosed check,
signed by me, for whatever sum you require for your
expenses.
“Kindly reply by telegraph, and much oblige,

“Your humble servant,


“Baron Victor d’Imblevalle,
“18 rue Murillo, Paris.”

“Ah!” exclaimed Sholmes, “that sounds good ... a little trip to Paris
... and why not, Wilson? Since my famous duel with Arsène Lupin, I
have not had an excuse to go there. I should be pleased to visit the
capital of the world under less strenuous conditions.”
He tore the check into four pieces and, while Wilson, whose arm
had not yet regained its former strength, uttered bitter words
against Paris and the Parisians, Sholmes opened the second
envelope. Immediately, he made a gesture of annoyance, and a
wrinkle appeared on his forehead during the reading of the letter;
then, crushing the paper into a ball, he threw it, angrily, on the floor.
“Well? What’s the matter?” asked Wilson, anxiously.
He picked up the ball of paper, unfolded it, and read, with
increasing amazement:

“My Dear Monsieur:


“You know full well the admiration I have for you
and the interest I take in your renown. Well, believe
me, when I warn you to have nothing whatever to do
with the case on which you have just now been called
to Paris. Your intervention will cause much harm; your
efforts will produce a most lamentable result; and you
will be obliged to make a public confession of your
defeat.
“Having a sincere desire to spare you such
humiliation, I implore you, in the name of the
friendship that unites us, to remain peacefully reposing
at your own fireside.
“My best wishes to Monsieur Wilson, and, for
yourself, the sincere regards of your devoted

ARSÈNE LUPIN.”

“Arsène Lupin!” repeated Wilson, astounded.


Sholmes struck the table with his fist, and exclaimed:
“Ah! he is pestering me already, the fool! He laughs at me as if I
were a schoolboy! The public confession of my defeat! Didn’t I force
him to disgorge the blue diamond?”
“I tell you—he’s afraid,” suggested Wilson.
“Nonsense! Arsène Lupin is not afraid, and this taunting letter
proves it.”
“But how did he know that the Baron d’Imblevalle had written to
you?”
“What do I know about it? You do ask some stupid questions, my
boy.”
“I thought ... I supposed——”
“What? That I am a clairvoyant? Or a sorcerer?”
“No, but I have seen you do some marvellous things.”
“No person can perform marvellous things. I no more than you. I
reflect, I deduct, I conclude—that is all; but I do not divine. Only
fools divine.”
Wilson assumed the attitude of a whipped cur, and resolved not to
make a fool of himself by trying to divine why Sholmes paced the
room with quick, nervous strides. But when Sholmes rang for the
servant and ordered his valise, Wilson thought that he was in
possession of a material fact which gave him the right to reflect,
deduct and conclude that his associate was about to take a journey.
The same mental operation permitted him to assert, with almost
mathematical exactness:
“Sholmes, you are going to Paris.”
“Possibly.”
“And Lupin’s affront impels you to go, rather than the desire to
assist the Baron d’Imblevalle.”
“Possibly.”
“Sholmes, I shall go with you.”
“Ah; ah! my old friend,” exclaimed Sholmes, interrupting his
walking, “you are not afraid that your right arm will meet the same
fate as your left?”
“What can happen to me? You will be there.”
“That’s the way to talk, Wilson. We will show that clever
Frenchman that he made a mistake when he threw his glove in our
faces. Be quick, Wilson, we must catch the first train.”
“Without waiting for the papers the baron has sent you?”
“What good are they?”
“I will send a telegram.”
“No; if you do that, Arsène Lupin will know of my arrival. I wish to
avoid that. This time, Wilson, we must fight under cover.”

That afternoon, the two friends embarked at Dover. The passage


was a delightful one. In the train from Calais to Paris, Sholmes had
three hours sound sleep, while Wilson guarded the door of the
compartment.
Sholmes awoke in good spirits. He was delighted at the idea of
another duel with Arsène Lupin, and he rubbed his hands with the
satisfied air of a man who looks forward to a pleasant vacation.
“At last!” exclaimed Wilson, “we are getting to work again.”
And he rubbed his hands with the same satisfied air.
At the station, Sholmes took the wraps and, followed by Wilson,
who carried the valises, he gave up his tickets and started off briskly.
“Fine weather, Wilson.... Blue sky and sunshine! Paris is giving us
a royal reception.”
“Yes, but what a crowd!”
“So much the better, Wilson, we will pass unnoticed. No one will
recognize us in such a crowd.”
“Is this Monsieur Sholmes?”
He stopped, somewhat puzzled. Who the deuce could thus
address him by his name? A woman stood beside him; a young girl
whose simple dress outlined her slender form and whose pretty face
had a sad and anxious expression. She repeated her enquiry:
“You are Monsieur Sholmes?”
As he still remained silent, as much from confusion as from a habit
of prudence, the girl asked a third time:
“Have I the honor of addressing Monsieur Sholmes?”
“What do you want?” he replied, testily, considering the incident a
suspicious one.
“You must listen to me, Monsieur Sholmes, as it is a serious
matter. I know that you are going to the rue Murillo.”
“What do you say?”
“I know ... I know ... rue Murillo ... number 18. Well, you must not
go ... no, you must not. I assure you that you will regret it. Do not
think that I have any interest in the matter. I do it because it is right
... because my conscience tells me to do it.”
Sholmes tried to get away, but she persisted:
“Oh! I beg of you, don’t neglect my advice.... Ah! if I only knew
how to convince you! Look at me! Look into my eyes! They are
sincere ... they speak the truth.”
She gazed at Sholmes, fearlessly but innocently, with those
beautiful eyes, serious and clear, in which her very soul seemed to
be reflected.
Wilson nodded his head, as he said:
“Mademoiselle looks honest.”
“Yes,” she implored, “and you must have confidence——”
“I have confidence in you, mademoiselle,” replied Wilson.
“Oh, how happy you make me! And so has your friend? I feel it ...
I am sure of it! What happiness! Everything will be all right now!...
What a good idea of mine!... Ah! yes, there is a train for Calais in
twenty minutes. You will take it.... Quick, follow me ... you must
come this way ... there is just time.”
She tried to drag them along. Sholmes seized her arm, and in as
gentle a voice as he could assume, said to her:
“Excuse me, mademoiselle, if I cannot yield to your wishes, but I
never abandon a task that I have once undertaken.”
“I beseech you ... I implore you.... Ah if you could only
understand!”
Sholmes passed outside and walked away at a quick pace. Wilson
said to the girl:
“Have no fear ... he will be in at the finish. He never failed yet.”
And he ran to overtake Sholmes.
HERLOCK SHOLMES—ARSÈNE LUPIN.
These words, in great black letters, met their gaze as soon as they
left the railway station. A number of sandwich-men were parading
through the street, one behind the other, carrying heavy canes with
iron ferrules with which they struck the pavement in harmony, and,
on their backs, they carried large posters, on which one could read
the following notice:
THE MATCH BETWEEN HERLOCK SHOLMES
AND ARSÈNE LUPIN. ARRIVAL OF THE ENGLISH
CHAMPION. THE GREAT DETECTIVE ATTACKS
THE MYSTERY OF THE RUE MURILLO. READ THE
DETAILS IN THE “ECHO DE FRANCE.”
Wilson shook his head, and said:
“Look at that, Sholmes, and we thought we were traveling
incognito! I shouldn’t be surprised to find the republican guard
waiting for us at the rue Murillo to give us an official reception with
toasts and champagne.”
“Wilson, when you get funny, you get beastly funny,” growled
Sholmes.
Then he approached one of the sandwich-men with the obvious
intention of seizing him in his powerful grip and crushing him,
together with his infernal sign-board. There was quite a crowd
gathered about the men, reading the notices, and joking and
laughing.
Repressing a furious access of rage, Sholmes said to the man:
“When did they hire you?”
“This morning.”
“How long have you been parading?”
“About an hour.”
“But the boards were ready before that?”
“Oh, yes, they were ready when we went to the agency this
morning.”
So then it appears that Arsène Lupin had foreseen that he,
Sholmes, would accept the challenge. More than that, the letter
written by Lupin showed that he was eager for the fray and that he
was prepared to measure swords once more with his formidable
rival. Why? What motive could Arsène Lupin have in renewing the
struggle?
Sholmes hesitated for a moment. Lupin must be very confident of
his success to show so much insolence in advance; and was not he,
Sholmes, falling into a trap by rushing into the battle at the first call
for help?
However, he called a carriage.
“Come, Wilson!... Driver, 18 rue Murillo!” he exclaimed, with an
outburst of his accustomed energy. With distended veins and
clenched fists, as if he were about to engage in a boxing bout, he
jumped into the carriage.

The rue Murillo is bordered with magnificent private residences,


the rear of which overlook the Parc Monceau. One of the most
pretentious of these houses is number 18, owned and occupied by
the Baron d’Imblevalle and furnished in a luxurious manner
consistent with the owner’s taste and wealth. There was a courtyard
in front of the house, and, in the rear, a garden well filled with trees
whose branches mingle with those of the park.
After ringing the bell, the two Englishmen were admitted, crossed
the courtyard, and were received at the door by a footman who
showed them into a small parlor facing the garden in the rear of the
house. They sat down and, glancing about, made a rapid inspection
of the many valuable objects with which the room was filled.
“Everything very choice,” murmured Wilson, “and in the best of
taste. It is a safe deduction to make that those who had the leisure
to collect these articles must now be at least fifty years of age.”
The door opened, and the Baron d’Imblevalle entered, followed by
his wife. Contrary to the deduction made by Wilson, they were both
quite young, of elegant appearance, and vivacious in speech and
action. They were profuse in their expressions of gratitude.
“So kind of you to come! Sorry to have caused you so much
trouble! The theft now seems of little consequence, since it has
procured us this pleasure.”
“How charming these French people are!” thought Wilson,
evolving one of his commonplace deductions.
“But time is money,” exclaimed the baron, “especially your time,
Monsieur Sholmes. So I will come to the point. Now, what do you
think of the affair? Do you think you can succeed in it?”
“Before I can answer that I must know what it is about.”
“I thought you knew.”
“No; so I must ask you for full particulars, even to the smallest
detail. First, what is the nature of the case?”
“A theft.”
“When did it take place?”
“Last Saturday,” replied the baron, “or, at least, some time during
Saturday night or Sunday morning.”
“That was six days ago. Now, you can tell me all about it.”
“In the first place, monsieur, I must tell you that my wife and I,
conforming to the manner of life that our position demands, go out
very little. The education of our children, a few receptions, and the
care and decoration of our house—such constitutes our life; and
nearly all our evenings are spent in this little room, which is my
wife’s boudoir, and in which we have gathered a few artistic objects.
Last Saturday night, about eleven o’clock, I turned off the electric
lights, and my wife and I retired, as usual, to our room.”
“Where is your room?”
“It adjoins this. That is the door. Next morning, that is to say,
Sunday morning, I arose quite early. As Suzanne, my wife, was still
asleep, I passed into the boudoir as quietly as possible so as not to
wake her. What was my astonishment when I found that window
open—as we had left it closed the evening before!”
“A servant——”
“No one enters here in the morning until we ring. Besides, I
always take the precaution to bolt the second door which
communicates with the ante-chamber. Therefore, the window must
have been opened from the outside. Besides, I have some evidence
of that: the second pane of glass from the right—close to the
fastening—had been cut.”
“And what does that window overlook?”
“As you can see for yourself, it opens on a little balcony,
surrounded by a stone railing. Here, we are on the first floor, and
you can see the garden behind the house and the iron fence which
separates it from the Parc Monceau. It is quite certain that the thief
came through the park, climbed the fence by the aid of a ladder, and
thus reached the terrace below the window.”
“That is quite certain, you say?”
“Well, in the soft earth on either side of the fence, they found the
two holes made by the bottom of the ladder, and two similar holes
can be seen below the window. And the stone railing of the balcony
shows two scratches which were doubtless made by the contact of
the ladder.”
“Is the Parc Monceau closed at night?”
“No; but if it were, there is a house in course of erection at
number 14, and a person could enter that way.”
Herlock Sholmes reflected for a few minutes, and then said:
“Let us come down to the theft. It must have been committed in
this room?”
“Yes; there was here, between that twelfth century Virgin and that
tabernacle of chased silver, a small Jewish lamp. It has disappeared.”
“And is that all?”
“That is all.”
“Ah!... And what is a Jewish lamp?”
“One of those copper lamps used by the ancient Jews, consisting
of a standard which supported a bowl containing the oil, and from
this bowl projected several burners intended for the wicks.”
“Upon the whole, an object of small value.”
“No great value, of course. But this one contained a secret hiding-
place in which we were accustomed to place a magnificent jewel, a
chimera in gold, set with rubies and emeralds, which was of great
value.”
“Why did you hide it there?”
“Oh! I can’t give any reason, monsieur, unless it was an odd fancy
to utilize a hiding-place of that kind.”
“Did anyone know it?”
“No.”
“No one—except the thief,” said Sholmes. “Otherwise he would not
have taken the trouble to steal the lamp.”
“Of course. But how could he know it, as it was only by accident
that the secret mechanism of the lamp was revealed to us.”
“A similar accident has revealed it to some one else ... a servant ...
or an acquaintance. But let us proceed: I suppose the police have
been notified?”
“Yes. The examining magistrate has completed his investigation.
The reporter-detectives attached to the leading newspapers have
also made their investigations. But, as I wrote to you, it seems to
me the mystery will never be solved.”
Sholmes arose, went to the window, examined the casement, the
balcony, the terrace, studied the scratches on the stone railing with
his magnifying-glass, and then requested Mon. d’Imblevalle to show
him the garden.
Outside, Sholmes sat down in a rattan chair and gazed at the roof
of the house in a dreamy way. Then he walked over to the two little
wooden boxes with which they had covered the holes made in the
ground by the bottom of the ladder with a view of preserving them
intact. He raised the boxes, kneeled on the ground, scrutinized the
holes and made some measurements. After making a similar
examination of the holes near the fence, he and the baron returned
to the boudoir where Madame d’Imblevalle was waiting for them.
After a short silence Sholmes said:
“At the very outset of your story, baron, I was surprised at the
very simple methods employed by the thief. To raise a ladder, cut a
window-pane, select a valuable article, and walk out again—no, that
is not the way such things are done. All that is too plain, too simple.”
“Well, what do you think?”
“That the Jewish lamp was stolen under the direction of Arsène
Lupin.”
“Arsène Lupin!” exclaimed the baron.
“Yes, but he did not do it himself, as no one came from the
outside. Perhaps a servant descended from the upper floor by means
of a waterspout that I noticed when I was in the garden.”
“What makes you think so?”
“Arsène Lupin would not leave this room empty-handed.”
“Empty-handed! But he had the lamp.”
“But that would not have prevented his taking that snuff-box, set
with diamonds, or that opal necklace. When he leaves anything, it is
because he can’t carry it away.”
“But the marks of the ladder outside?”
“A false scent. Placed there simply to avert suspicion.”
“And the scratches on the balustrade?”
“A farce! They were made with a piece of sandpaper. See, here
are scraps of the paper that I picked up in the garden.”
“And what about the marks made by the bottom of the ladder?”
“Counterfeit! Examine the two rectangular holes below the
window, and the two holes near the fence. They are of a similar
form, but I find that the two holes near the house are closer to each
other than the two holes near the fence. What does that fact
suggest? To me, it suggested that the four holes were made by a
piece of wood prepared for the purpose.”
“The better proof would be the piece of wood itself.”
“Here it is,” said Sholmes, “I found it in the garden, under the box
of a laurel tree.”
The baron bowed to Sholmes in recognition of his skill. Only forty
minutes had elapsed since the Englishman had entered the house,
and he had already exploded all the theories theretofore formed,
and which had been based on what appeared to be obvious and
undeniable facts. But what now appeared to be the real facts of the
case rested upon a more solid foundation, to-wit, the astute
reasoning of a Herlock Sholmes.
“The accusation which you make against one of our household is a
very serious matter,” said the baroness. “Our servants have been
with us a long time and none of them would betray our trust.”
“If none of them has betrayed you, how can you explain the fact
that I received this letter on the same day and by the same mail as
the letter you wrote to me?”
He handed to the baroness the letter that he had received from
Arsène Lupin. She exclaimed, in amazement:
“Arsène Lupin! How could he know?”
“Did you tell anyone that you had written to me?”
“No one,” replied the baron. “The idea occurred to us the other
evening at the dinner-table.”
“Before the servants?”
“No, only our two children. Oh, no ... Sophie and Henriette had
left the table, hadn’t they, Suzanne?”
Madame d’Imblevalle, after a moment’s reflection, replied:
“Yes, they had gone to Mademoiselle.”
“Mademoiselle?” queried Sholmes.
“The governess, Mademoiselle Alice Demun.”
“Does she take her meals with you?”
“No. Her meals are served in her room.”
Wilson had an idea. He said:
“The letter written to my friend Herlock Sholmes was posted?”
“Of course.”
“Who posted it?”
“Dominique, who has been my valet for twenty years,” replied the
baron. “Any search in that direction would be a waste of time.”
“One never wastes his time when engaged in a search,” said
Wilson, sententiously.
This preliminary investigation now ended, and Sholmes asked
permission to retire.
At dinner, an hour later, he saw Sophie and Henriette, the two
children of the family, one was six and the other eight years of age.
There was very little conversation at the table. Sholmes responded
to the friendly advances of his hosts in such a curt manner that they
were soon reduced to silence. When the coffee was served, Sholmes
swallowed the contents of his cup, and rose to take his leave.
At that moment, a servant entered with a telephone message
addressed to Sholmes. He opened it, and read:

“You have my enthusiastic admiration. The results


attained by you in so short a time are simply
marvellous. I am dismayed.

“ARSÈNE LUPIN.”
Sholmes made a gesture of indignation and handed the message
to the baron, saying:
“What do you think now, monsieur? Are the walls of your house
furnished with eyes and ears?”
“I don’t understand it,” said the baron, in amazement.
“Nor do I; but I do understand that Lupin has knowledge of
everything that occurs in this house. He knows every movement,
every word. There is no doubt of it. But how does he get his
information? That is the first mystery I have to solve, and when I
know that I will know everything.”

That night, Wilson retired with the clear conscience of a man who
has performed his whole duty and thus acquired an undoubted right
to sleep and repose. So he fell asleep very quickly, and was soon
enjoying the most delightful dreams in which he pursued Lupin and
captured him single-handed; and the sensation was so vivid and
exciting that it woke him from his sleep. Someone was standing at
his bedside. He seized his revolver, and cried:
“Don’t move, Lupin, or I’ll fire.”
“The deuce! Wilson, what do you mean?”
“Oh! it is you, Sholmes. Do you want me?”
“I want to show you something. Get up.”
Sholmes led him to the window, and said:
“Look!... on the other side of the fence....”
“In the park?”
“Yes. What do you see?”
“I don’t see anything.”
“Yes, you do see something.”
“Ah! of course, a shadow ... two of them.”
“Yes, close to the fence. See, they are moving. Come, quick!”
Quickly they descended the stairs, and reached a room which
opened into the garden. Through the glass door they could see the
two shadowy forms in the same place.
“It is very strange,” said Sholmes, “but it seems to me I can hear a
noise inside the house.”
“Inside the house? Impossible! Everybody is asleep.”
“Well, listen——”
At that moment a low whistle came from the other side of the
fence, and they perceived a dim light which appeared to come from
the house.
“The baron must have turned on the light in his room. It is just
above us.”
“That must have been the noise you heard,” said Wilson. “Perhaps
they are watching the fence also.”
Then there was a second whistle, softer than before.
“I don’t understand it; I don’t understand,” said Sholmes, irritably.
“No more do I,” confessed Wilson.
Sholmes turned the key, drew the bolt, and quietly opened the
door. A third whistle, louder than before, and modulated to another
form. And the noise above their heads became more pronounced.
Sholmes said:
“It seems to be on the balcony outside the boudoir window.”
He put his head through the half-opened door, but immediately
recoiled, with a stifled oath. Then Wilson looked. Quite close to them
there was a ladder, the upper end of which was resting on the
balcony.
“The deuce!” said Sholmes, “there is someone in the boudoir. That
is what we heard. Quick, let us remove the ladder.”
But at that instant a man slid down the ladder and ran toward the
spot where his accomplices were waiting for him outside the fence.
He carried the ladder with him. Sholmes and Wilson pursued the
man and overtook him just as he was placing the ladder against the
fence. From the other side of the fence two shots were fired.
“Wounded?” cried Sholmes.
“No,” replied Wilson.
Wilson seized the man by the body and tried to hold him, but the
man turned and plunged a knife into Wilson’s breast. He uttered a
groan, staggered and fell.
“Damnation!” muttered Sholmes, “if they have killed him I will kill
them.”
He laid Wilson on the grass and rushed toward the ladder. Too late
—the man had climbed the fence and, accompanied by his
confederates, had fled through the bushes.
“Wilson, Wilson, it is not serious, hein? Merely a scratch.”
The house door opened, and Monsieur d’Imblevalle appeared,
followed by the servants, carrying candles.
“What’s the matter?” asked the baron. “Is Monsieur Wilson
wounded?”
“Oh! it’s nothing—a mere scratch,” repeated Sholmes, trying to
deceive himself.
The blood was flowing profusely, and Wilson’s face was livid.
Twenty minutes later the doctor ascertained that the point of the
knife had penetrated to within an inch and a half of the heart.
“An inch and a half of the heart! Wilson always was lucky!” said
Sholmes, in an envious tone.
“Lucky ... lucky....” muttered the doctor.
“Of course! Why, with his robust constitution he will soon be out
again.”
“Six weeks in bed and two months of convalescence.”
“Not more?”
“No, unless complications set in.”
“Oh! the devil! what does he want complications for?”
Fully reassured, Sholmes joined the baron in the boudoir. This
time the mysterious visitor had not exercised the same restraint.
Ruthlessly, he had laid his vicious hand upon the diamond snuff-box,
upon the opal necklace, and, in a general way, upon everything that
could find a place in the greedy pockets of an enterprising burglar.
The window was still open; one of the window-panes had been
neatly cut; and, in the morning, a summary investigation showed
that the ladder belonged to the house then in course of construction.
“Now, you can see,” said Mon. d’Imblevalle, with a touch of irony,
“it is an exact repetition of the affair of the Jewish lamp.”
“Yes, if we accept the first theory adopted by the police.”
“Haven’t you adopted it yet? Doesn’t this second theft shatter your
theory in regard to the first?”
“It only confirms it, monsieur.”
“That is incredible! You have positive evidence that last night’s
theft was committed by an outsider, and yet you adhere to your
theory that the Jewish lamp was stolen by someone in the house.”
“Yes, I am sure of it.”
“How do you explain it?”
“I do not explain anything, monsieur; I have established two facts
which do not appear to have any relation to each other, and yet I am
seeking the missing link that connects them.”
His conviction seemed to be so earnest and positive that the baron
submitted to it, and said:
“Very well, we will notify the police——”
“Not at all!” exclaimed the Englishman, quickly, “not at all! I intend
to ask for their assistance when I need it—but not before.”
“But the attack on your friend?”
“That’s of no consequence. He is only wounded. Secure the
license of the doctor. I shall be responsible for the legal side of the
affair.”
The next two days proved uneventful. Yet Sholmes was
investigating the case with a minute care, and with a sense of
wounded pride resulting from that audacious theft, committed under
his nose, in spite of his presence and beyond his power to prevent it.
He made a thorough investigation of the house and garden,
interviewed the servants, and paid lengthy visits to the kitchen and
stables. And, although his efforts were fruitless, he did not despair.
“I will succeed,” he thought, “and the solution must be sought
within the walls of this house. This affair is quite different from that
of the blonde Lady, where I had to work in the dark, on unknown
ground. This time I am on the battlefield itself. The enemy is not the
elusive and invisible Lupin, but the accomplice, in flesh and blood,
who lives and moves within the confines of this house. Let me
secure the slightest clue and the game is mine!”
That clue was furnished to him by accident.
On the afternoon of the third day, when he entered a room
located above the boudoir, which served as a study for the children,
he found Henriette, the younger of the two sisters. She was looking
for her scissors.
“You know,” she said to Sholmes, “I make papers like that you
received the other evening.”
“The other evening?”
“Yes, just as dinner was over, you received a paper with marks on
it ... you know, a telegram.... Well, I make them, too.”
She left the room. To anyone else these words would seem to be
nothing more than the insignificant remark of a child, and Sholmes
himself listened to them with a distracted air and continued his
investigation. But, suddenly, he ran after the child, and overtook her
at the head of the stairs. He said to her:
“So you paste stamps and marks on papers?”
Henriette, very proudly, replied:
“Yes, I cut them out and paste them on.”
“Who taught you that little game?”

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