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Essentials of Modern Communications
Essentials of Modern Communications

Djafar K. Mynbaev
New York City College of Technology of the City University of New York

Lowell L. Scheiner
Late of New York University Tandon School of Engineering
This edition first published 2020
© 2020 John Wiley & Sons, Inc.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Mynbaev, Djafar K., author. | Scheiner, Lowell L., author.

Title: Essentials of modern communications / Djafar K. Mynbaev, New York City
College of Technology of the City University of New York, Lowell L.
Scheiner, Late of New York University, Tandon School of Engineering.
Description: Hoboken, NJ, USA : Wiley, 2020. | Includes bibliographical
references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2019053579 (print) | LCCN 2019053580 (ebook) | ISBN
9781119521495 (hardback) | ISBN 9781119521464 (adobe pdf) | ISBN
9781119521457 (epub)
Subjects: LCSH: Telecommunication.
Classification: LCC TK5101 .M96 2020 (print) | LCC TK5101 (ebook) | DDC
621.382–dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019053579
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019053580

Cover design by Wiley

Cover image: © KTSDESIGN/SCIENCE PHOTO LIBRARY/Getty Images

Set in 9.5/12.5pt STIXTwoText by SPi Global, Chennai, India

Printed in the United States of America

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
To Bronia
 vii

Contents

About the Authors xxi

Preface xxiii
Acknowledgments xxvii

1 Modern Communications: What It Is? 1

Objectives and Outcomes of Chapter 1 1
1.1 What and Why of Modern Communications 4
Objectives and Outcomes of Section 1.1 4
1.1.1 What Is Modern Communications? 5
1.1.2 General Block Diagram of a Communication System 6
1.1.3 Operation of a Communication System 7
1.1.4 Why Do We Need Modern Communications? 8
1.1.5 From Today to Tomorrow – Two Examples 9
1.1.5.1 The Internet of Things (IoT) 10
1.1.5.2 Data Centers 12
Questions and Problems for Section 1.1 13
1.2 Communication Technology on a Fast Track 16
Objectives and Outcomes of Section 1.2 16
Sidebar 1.2.S.1 Brief Notes on History of Telegraph, Telephone, Radio,
and Television 22
1.2.1 The Internet 28
1.2.1.1 Basics of Networks 28
1.2.1.2 The Internet: From a Point-to-Point Link to a Network of
Networks 37
1.2.2 Optical Communications 42
1.2.2.1 Introduction to Optical Communications 43
1.2.2.2 Developments in Optical Communications: From First
Inventions to Modern Advances 46
1.2.3 Wireless Communications 49
1.2.3.1 Introduction to Wireless Communications 49
1.2.3.2 Contemporary Wireless Communications Technologies 54
1.2.3.3 Mobile Cellular Communications 57
viii Contents

1.2.4 Satellite Communications 59

1.2.4.1 Historical Notes 59
1.2.4.2 Principle of Operation of Satellite Communication
Systems 60
1.2.4.3 Satellite Orbits 62
Questions and Problems for Section 1.2 67
1.3 Fundamental Laws and Principles of Modern Communications 75
1.3.1 Fundamental Laws of Modern Communications 75
1.3.1.1 Hartley’s Information Law 75
1.3.1.2 Signal Bandwidth and Transmission Bandwidth from the
Transmission Standpoint 76
1.3.1.3 Bandwidth and Bit Rate, Nyquist’s Formula, and Hartley’s
Capacity Law 77
1.3.1.4 Shannon’s Law (Limit) 79
1.3.1.5 More Clarifications of the Shannon Law 82
1.3.1.6 The Shannon Law for Digital Communications 83
1.3.2 Fundamental Principles of Modern Communications 86
1.3.2.1 Channel Capacity, Bandwidth, and Carrier Frequency 86
1.3.2.2 Bandwidth-Length Product 90
1.3.2.3 Power-Bandwidth Trade-Off 91
1.3.2.4 Spectral Efficiency and Transmission Technology 92
1.3.2.5 Bit Rate vs. Bandwidth in Digital Transmission 93
1.3.3 Laws, Principles, and Models – Importance, Limitations, and
Applications 94
1.3.3.1 Limitations and Applications of the Laws and Principles 94
1.3.3.2 Models 96
1.3.3.3 Modeling and Simulation 98
Questions and Problems for Section 1.3 99

2 Analog Signals and Analog Transmission 103

Objectives and Outcomes of Chapter 2 103
2.1 Analog Signals – Basics 104
Objectives and Outcomes of Section 2.1 104
2.1.1 Definitions 104
2.1.1.1 Waveforms 104
2.1.1.2 Analog and Digital Signals 108
2.1.2 Sinusoidal Signal 110
2.1.2.1 The Waveform of a Sinusoidal Signal 110
2.1.2.2 Period and Frequency 111
2.1.2.3 Frequency, Radian (Angular) Frequency and Angle 115
2.1.2.4 Phase Shift (Initial Phase) 117
2.1.2.5 Amplitude 121
Questions and Problems for Section 2.1 125
2.2 Analog Signals – Introduction 129
Objectives and Outcomes of Section 2.2 129
2.2.1 More About a Sinusoidal Signal 130
2.2.1.1 Considering All Three Parameters – the Formula for a
Sinusoidal Signal 130
 Contents ix

2.2.1.2 The Phase of a Sinusoidal Signal: a Detailed Look 132

2.2.1.3 Cosine and Sine Signals 138
Sidebar 2.2.S.1 Phasor and Sinusoidal Signal 139
Sidebar 2.2.S.2 Signal and Function 146
2.2.2 Frequency Domain and Bandwidth 151
2.2.2.1 Frequency Domain 151
2.2.2.2 Cosine and Sine Signals in Frequency Domain 151
2.2.2.3 Bandwidth 156
2.2.2.4 Bandwidth: a Sophisticated Entity 159
Questions and Problems for Section 2.2 162
2.3 Analog Signals – Advanced Study 167
Objectives and Outcomes of Section 2.3 167
2.3.1 Revisiting the Waveforms 168
2.3.1.1 More about Waveforms 168
2.3.1.2 Waveform and Signal’s Power 174
2.3.2 Waveforms and Phasors 178
2.3.2.1 Practically Realizable Waveforms 178
2.3.2.2 Phasors and Phasor Diagrams 178
2.3.2.3 Waveforms and Phasors for a Resistor, an Inductor, and a
Capacitor 181
2.3.2.4 Impedances and Phasors 185
Questions and Problems for Section 2.3 189
2.3.A Mathematical Foundation of Phasor Presentation 191
2.3.A.1 Phasors and Complex Numbers 191
2.3.A.2 Applications of Phasor Presentation to the Analysis of
Electronic Communications Circuitry 195
2.3.A.2.1 Summation of Signals 195
Optional: Questions and Problems for Appendix 2.3.A 200

3 Digital Signals and Digital Transmission 203

Objectives and Outcomes of Chapter 3 203
3.1 Digital Communications – Basics 203
Objectives and Outcomes of Section 3.1 203
3.1.1 Why Go to Digital Communications 204
3.1.1.1 Main Advantage of Digital Transmission over the Analog 204
3.1.1.2 Case Study 1: The Advantages of Using Digital Signals in
Transmission 207
3.1.1.3 Case Study 2 of Digital Communications: Transmission with
Integrated-Circuit Digital Logic Families 210
3.1.1.4 Why Go to Digital Communications: A Summary 214
3.1.2 How to Go to Digital Communications 215
3.1.2.1 From Characters to Bits 215
3.1.2.2 From Bits to Electrical Pulses 222
3.1.2.3 How to Go Digital Communications: A Summary 224
Questions and Problems for Section 3.1 225
3.1.A Brief History of Character Codes 229
3.1.A.1 International Morse Code 229
3.1.A.2 Baudot Code 230
x Contents

3.2 Digital Signals and Digital Transmission – Introduction 232

Objectives and Outcomes of Section 3.2 232
3.2.1 Ideal Digital Signal and Characteristics of Digital Transmission 233
3.2.1.1 The Waveform of an Ideal Digital Signal 233
3.2.1.2 Pulse Interval and Transmission Rate; Bit Time and Bit
Rate 235
3.2.1.3 Important Note: The Definition of Bit Time 237
3.2.1.4 Bit Rate and Channel (Shannon’s) Capacity 237
3.2.2 Parameters of a Real Digital Signal and the Characteristics of Digital
Transmission 239
3.2.2.1 Waveform of an Actual Digital Signal 239
3.2.2.2 Amplitude and Pulse Width 240
3.2.2.3 Rise Time and Fall Time 241
3.2.2.4 Rise/Fall Time and Bit Rate 244
3.2.2.5 More on Timing Parameters of a Digital Signal: Bit Time
Revisited 247
3.2.2.6 Duty Cycle 250
Questions and Problems for Section 3.2 253

4 Analog-to-Digital Conversion (ADC) and Digital-to-Analog Conversion (DAC) 259

Objectives and Outcomes of Chapter 4 259
4.1 Analog-to-Digital Conversion, ADC 259
Objectives and Outcomes of Section 4.1 259
4.1.1 The Need for ADC and DAC 261
4.1.2 Three Major Steps of ADC 263
4.1.3 Sample-and-Hold (S&H) Operation 263
4.1.3.1 Sampling (S&H) Technique and the Nyquist Theorem 263
4.1.3.2 Aliasing 267
4.1.4 Quantization in ADC 272
4.1.4.1 Quantization Process 272
4.1.4.2 Quantization Errors and Quantization Noise 284
4.1.5 Encoding 285
Questions and Problems for Section 4.1 291
4.1.A Decimal and Binary Numbering Systems 299
4.1.A.1 Decimal Numbering System 299
4.1.A.2 Binary Numbering System 300
4.1.A.3 Conversion from the Decimal Number System to the
Binary 301
4.2 Digital-to-Analog Conversion, DAC, Pulse-Amplitude Modulation, PAM, and
Pulse-Code Modulation, PCM 303
Objectives and Outcomes of Section 4.2 303
4.2.1 Digital-to-Analog Conversion, DAC 304
4.2.2 Pulse Amplitude Modulation, PAM 304
4.2.3 Pulse Code Modulation, PCM 306
4.2.3.1 PCM: Principle of Operation 306
4.2.3.2 PCM: Advantages and Drawbacks 308
4.2.3.3 PCM Applications 309
Questions and Problems for Section 4.2 309
 Contents xi

4.2.A Modes of Digital Transmission 311

4.2.A.1 Simplex, Half Duplex and Full Duplex Transmission 311
4.2.A.2 Serial and Parallel Transmissions 312
4.2.A.3 The General Formula for Bit Rate 314
4.2.A.4 The Need for Synchronization in Digital Transmission 315
4.2.A.4.1 Digital Signals and Timing 315
4.2.A.4.2 Timing in Digital Transmission 316
4.2.A.4.3 Time Discrepancy Between Transmitter and
Receiver Clocks 317
4.2.A.4.4 How Time Discrepancy Between Transmitter and
Receiver Clocks Deteriorates the Quality of Digital
Transmission 319
4.2.A.4.5 A Short Summary on Synchronization Issues 320
4.2.A.5 Asynchronous and Synchronous Transmission 320
4.2.A.5.1 Asynchronous Transmission 321
4.2.A.5.2 Synchronous Transmission 323

5 Filters 325
Objectives and Outcomes of Chapter 5 325
5.1 Filtering – Basics 326
Objectives and Outcomes of Section 5.1 326
5.1.1 Filtering: What and Why 327
5.1.2 RC Low-Pass Filter (LPF) 330
5.1.2.1 Frequency Responses of a Resistor, R, and a Capacitor, C 330
5.1.2.2 RC Low-Pass Filter: Principle of Operation 333
5.1.2.3 Output Waveforms of an RC LPF 334
5.1.2.4 An RC LPF: Formulas for Attenuation and Phase Shift 335
5.1.2.5 Frequency Response of an RC LPF 339
5.1.2.6 Cutoff (Critical) Frequency of an RC LPF 342
Sidebar 5.1.S Filter’s Characteristics in Absolute Values and in dB 345
5.1.3 Filter Operation in Time Domain and Frequency Domain 347
5.1.3.1 Waveform Change and Frequency Response 347
5.1.3.2 Bandwidth of an RC LPF 349
5.1.3.3 Characterization of an RC LPF 349
5.1.3.4 The Role of R and C Parameters in Characterization of an RC
LPF 352
5.1.4 General Filter Specifications 354
5.1.4.1 Amplitude Specifications 354
5.1.4.2 Phase Specifications 359
Questions and Problems for Section 5.1 360
5.2 Filtering – Introduction 365
Objectives and Outcomes of Section 5.2 365
5.2.1 High-Pass Filter (HPF), Band-Pass Filter (BPF), and Band-Stop Filter
(BSF) 366
5.2.1.1 High-Pass Filter (HPF) 367
5.2.1.2 Band-Pass Filter (BPF) 371
5.2.1.3 Band-Stop Filter (BSF) 378
xii Contents

5.2.1.4 Applications of RC Filters 380

5.2.1.5 Final Notes on RC Filters 380
5.2.2 Transfer Function of a Filter 381
5.2.2.1 Input and Output of a Filter 381
5.2.2.2 Transfer Function of an RC LPF 384
5.2.2.3 Graphical Presentation of a Transfer Function: Bode Plots 387
Questions and Problems for Section 5.2 394
5.2.A RL Filter and Resonance Circuits as Filters 400
5.2.A.1 RL Filter 400
5.2.A.2 Resonance Circuits as Filters 402
5.2.A.2.1 Resonance Circuits: A Review 402
5.2.A.2.2 Quality Factor 405
5.2.A.2.3 Resonance Circuit as a Band-Pass Filter 406
5.2.A.2.4 Resonance Circuit as a Band-Stop Filter 407
5.3 Active and Switched-Capacitor Filters 409
Objectives and Outcomes of Section 5.3 409
5.3.1 Active Filters 410
5.3.1.1 Drawbacks of Passive Filters 410
5.3.1.2 Operational Amplifier 413
5.3.1.3 Active Filters: Concept and Circuits 418
5.3.1.4 Transfer Functions of an Active Filter: General View 419
5.3.1.5 Specific Types of Active Filters 420
5.3.1.6 Concluding Remarks on Active Filters 424
5.3.2 Switched-Capacitor Filters 424
5.3.2.1 Switched-Capacitor Filters: Concept and Circuits 424
5.3.2.2 Applications of Switched-Capacitor Filters 428
Questions and Problems for Section 5.3 431
5.3.A Active BPF and BSF 436
5.3.A.1 Active BPF 436
5.3.A.2 Active BSF 439
5.4 Filter Prototypes and Filter Design 441
Objectives and Outcomes of Section 5.4 441
5.4.1 Filter Prototypes 444
5.4.1.1 The Problem in the Filter Design – The Need for the Filter
Prototypes 444
5.4.1.2 Another Problem for Filter’s Designer: Relationship Between
Amplitude and Phase Responses 445
5.4.1.3 Main Filter Prototypes – What and Why 446
5.4.1.4 Transfer Function of the Butterworth Filter 450
5.4.1.5 Amplitude Response of the Butterworth Filter 451
5.4.1.6 Amplitude Response of the Butterworth Filter in Logarithmic
Scale 453
5.4.1.7 Phase Response (Shift) and Time Group Delay of the
Butterworth Filter 456
5.4.1.8 Poles of the Butterworth Filter’s Transfer Function 457
 Contents xiii

5.4.2 Introduction to Filter Design 459

5.4.2.1 Two Main Steps in Filter Design 459
5.4.2.2 Automated Design Options 460
5.4.2.3 Design of a Second-order Butterworth Filter 462
5.4.2.4 Using the Poles of a Transfer Function 468
5.4.3 The Design Process: Key Questions, Answers, and Salient Points 469
5.4.3.1 Questions and Answers 469
5.4.3.2 Salient Points 470
5.4.3.3 Choosing Filter Technology 471
Questions and Problems for Section 5.4 472
5.4.A Tables of the Butterworth Polynomials 478
5.5 Digital Filters 479
Objectives and Outcomes of Section 5.5 479
5.5.1 What are Digital Filters? 479
5.5.1.1 Digital Filters – Principle of Operation 479
5.5.1.2 ADC and DAC Operations Revisited 481
5.5.1.3 Digital Filters – Difference Equation, Order, and
Coefficients 484
5.5.1.4 Recursive (IIR) and Nonrecursive (FIR) Digital Filters and
Their Difference Equations 486
5.5.1.5 Impulse Response of Digital Filters 487
5.5.1.6 Transfer Function of a Digital Filter 488
5.5.2 Conclusive Remarks on Digital and Analog Filters 491
5.5.2.1 Some Final Comments on Digital Filters 491
5.5.2.2 Adaptive Filters 491
5.5.2.3 Comparison of Analog and Digital Filters 492
5.5.2.4 Summary of Applications of Various Filter Technologies 492
Questions and Problems for Section 5.5 494
What are Digital Filters? 494

6 Spectral Analysis 1 – The Fourier Series in Modern Communications 497

Objectives and Outcomes of Chapter 6 497
6.1 Basics of Spectral Analysis 498
Objective and Outcomes of Section 6.1 498
6.1.1 Time Domain and Frequency Domain 498
6.1.1.1 Periodic and Nonperiodic Signals 498
6.1.1.2 Time Domain and Frequency Domain Revisited 500
6.1.1.3 Signal Spectrum 509
6.1.2 The Fourier Series 511
6.1.2.1 The Fourier Theorem 511
Sidebar 6.1.S.1 Calculating the Coefficients of a Fourier Series 515
6.1.2.2 Spectral Analysis – From the Whole to the Parts 519
6.1.3 Spectral Synthesis 520
6.1.3.1 Spectral Synthesis – From Parts to the Whole 520
Questions and Problems for Section 6.1 528
xiv Contents

6.2 Introduction to Spectral Analysis 534

Objectives and Outcomes of Section 6.2 534
6.2.1 More About the Fourier Series 534
6.2.1.1 Coefficients of the Fourier Series 534
6.2.1.2 Amplitude and Phase Spectra 537
Sidebar 6.2.S.1 Using the Signal’s Symmetry for Finding the Fourier
Series Coefficients 542
6.2.1.3 Finding the Fourier Series of Various Signals 544
6.2.2 Effect of Filtering on Signals 546
6.2.2.1 Statement of the Problem 546
6.2.2.2 Filtering a Single Harmonic 552
6.2.2.3 Filtering a Periodic Signal – Time and Frequency Domains 554
6.2.2.4 Filtering a Signal – The Entire Picture 560
6.2.2.5 A Final Note on Effect of Filtering on Signals 566
6.2.3 Harmonic Distortion 566
Questions and Problems for Section 6.2 572
6.3 Spectral Analysis of Periodic Signals: Advanced Study 578
Objectives and Outcomes of Section 6.3 578
6.3.1 Mathematical Foundation of the Fourier Series 579
6.3.1.1 The Fourier Series in Exponential and Phasor Forms 579
Sidebar 6.3.S.1 The Other Forms of an Exponential Fourier Series 587
6.3.1.2 Two-Sided and One-Sided Spectra and Three Equivalent Forms
of the Fourier Series 588
6.3.2 Conditions for Application of the Fourier Series 591
Sidebar 6.3.S.2 Convergence of the Fourier Series 591
6.3.2.1 Gibbs Phenomenon 593
6.3.3 Power Spectrum of a Periodic Signal 594
6.3.3.1 Power and Energy Signals 594
6.3.3.2 Parseval’s Theorem 595
6.3.3.3 A Signal’s Bandwidth and Transmission Issues Associated with
a Power Spectrum 598
Questions and Problems for Section 6.3 609
6.3.A Fourier Coefficients of a Two-sided and a One-sided Spectrum of the
Periodic Pulse Train for Example 6.3.2. 613

7 Spectral Analysis 2 – The Fourier Transform in Modern Communications 615

Objectives and Outcomes of Chapter 7 615
7.1 Basics of the Fourier Transform 616
Objectives and Outcomes of Section 7.1 616
7.1.1 The Fourier Transform in Spectral Analysis 617
7.1.1.1 From a Periodic to a Nonperiodic Signal 617
7.1.1.2 From the Fourier Series to the Fourier Transform 628
7.1.1.3 The Fourier Transform Briefly Explained 629
7.1.2 First Examples of the Fourier Transform Applications 632
7.1.2.1 A Rectangular Pulse 632
7.1.2.2 Basics of the Spectral Analysis of a Nonperiodic Signal 635
7.1.2.3 Rayleigh Energy Theorem 639
Summary of Section 7.1 642
Questions and Problems for Section 7.1 643
 Contents xv

7.2 Continuous-Time Fourier Transform: A Deeper Look 644

Objectives and Outcomes of Section 7.2 644
7.2.1 Definition and Existence of the Fourier Transform 645
7.2.2 The Concept of Function and the Transform 646
Sidebar 7.2.S.1 Dirac Delta Function 649
7.2.3 Table of the Fourier Transform 654
7.2.4 Properties of the Fourier Transform 656
7.2.4.1 Units 656
7.2.4.2 Linearity 657
7.2.4.3 Duality 657
7.2.4.4 Modulation 657
7.2.4.5 Convolution in Time and in Frequency and a Transfer
Function 658
7.2.4.6 Time Differentiation 659
7.2.4.7 Other Properties of the Fourier Transform 659
7.2.5 Example of Using the Fourier Transform 659
Sidebar 7.2.S.2 The Impulse Response of an RC LPF 662
Sidebar 7.2.S.3 Alternative Methods of Finding a Transfer Function 667
7.3 The Fourier Transforms and Digital Signal Processing 670
Objectives and Outcomes of Section 7.3 670
7.3.1 Signals and the Fourier Transformations 671
Sidebar 7.3.S.1 A Word About DSP 677
7.3.2 Determining the Fourier Transform Required for DSP 681
7.3.3 Digital Signal Processing (DSP) and Discrete Fourier Transform
(DFT) 681
7.3.3.1 The Problem: Choosing the Best Type of FT for DSP 681
7.3.3.2 How Discrete Fourier Transform (DFT) Works 682
7.3.3.3 Can DFT Work with Any Signal? 690
7.3.4 Relationship Among All Fourier Transforms 697
7.3.5 Fast Fourier Transform (FFT) 699

8 Analog Transmission with Analog Modulation 707

Objectives and Outcomes of Chapter 8 707
8.1 Basics of Analog Modulation 708
Objectives and Outcomes of Section 8.1 708
8.1.1 Why We Need Modulation: Baseband and Broadband Transmission 710
8.1.1.1 Baseband Transmission and Its Major Problems 710
8.1.1.2 Solution to the Problems of Baseband
Transmission – Broadband Transmission 712
8.1.2 Basics of Amplitude Modulation 715
8.1.2.1 What Type of Analog Modulation Can We Have? 715
8.1.2.2 What Is Amplitude Modulation (AM) 715
8.1.2.3 Modulation Index 719
8.1.2.4 Relationship Between Frequencies of Information and Carrier
Signals 722
8.1.2.5 The Formula for an AM Signal and It Instantaneous
Value 723
8.1.2.6 The Spectrum of an AM Signal 725
xvi Contents

8.1.2.7 Power Distribution in an AM Signal 728

8.1.2.8 AM Modulation and Demodulation 730
8.1.2.9 The Main Drawback of Amplitude Modulation 732
8.1.3 Basics of Frequency Modulation (FM) 733
8.1.3.1 Frequency Modulation: Why and What 733
8.1.3.2 The Frequency of an FM Signal 734
8.1.3.3 Modulation Index of an FM Signal 738
8.1.3.4 The Spectrum and Bandwidth of an FM Signal 740
8.1.3.5 Relationship Between Parameters of Message and Carrier
Signals in FM Transmission 746
8.1.3.6 FM Modulation and Demodulation 746
8.1.4 Basics of Phase Modulation (PM) 750
8.1.4.1 How to Generate a Phase-Modulated Signal 750
8.1.4.2 Instantaneous Value of a Sinusoidal PM Signal 754
Questions and Problems for Section 8.1 754
8.1.A Drawbacks of Baseband Transmission 759
8.2 Analog Modulation for Analog Transmission – An Advanced Study 762
Objectives and Outcomes of Section 8.2 762
8.2.1 Classification of Modulation Revisited 763
8.2.2 Advanced Consideration of Amplitude Modulation, AM, and Its
Application in Analog Transmission 766
8.2.2.1 Full (Double-Sideband Transmitted Carrier, DSB-TC)
Amplitude Modulation 766
8.2.2.2 Problems of Full AM Transmission 774
8.2.2.3 Double-Sideband Suppressed Carrier (DSB-SC) AM 774
8.2.2.4 Single-Sideband Suppressed Carrier (SSB-SC) AM 779
8.2.2.5 Full AM, DSB, or SSB – Which Type to Choose? 782
8.2.2.6 Applications of AM Transmission 784
8.2.3 Advanced Consideration of Angular (Phase and Frequency) Modulation
and Its Application in Analog Transmission 784
8.2.3.1 Angular Modulation 784
8.2.3.2 Sinusoidal (Single-Tone) Frequency Modulation (FM) 788
8.2.3.3 The Spectrum of a Single-Tone FM Signal, the Main Properties
of the Bessel Functions, and Narrowband and Wideband
FM 790
8.2.3.4 The Bandwidth of a Single-Tone FM Signal 793
8.2.3.5 General Case of an FM Signal (An Arbitrary Message
Signal) 799
8.2.3.6 Effect of Noise on an FM Signal 807
Questions and Problems for Section 8.2 810
8.2.A Finding the Spectrum of an FM Signal with MATLAB 814

9 Digital Transmission with Binary Modulation 823

Objectives and Outcomes of Chapter 9 823
9.1 Digital Transmission – Basics 824
Objectives and Outcomes of Section 9.1 824
 Contents xvii

9.1.1 Essentials of Digital Transmission Revisited 827

9.1.1.1 Block Diagram of a Communication System 827
9.1.1.2 Characteristics of a Transmitter, Tx 828
9.1.1.3 Characteristics of a Receiver, Rx 829
9.1.1.4 Characteristics of a Transmission Channel (Link) 830
9.1.1.5 The Model of Noise in Shannon’s Law 835
9.1.1.6 An Amplifier in a Transmission Channel: Internal Noise, SNR,
and Noise Figure 839
9.1.2 Assessing the Quality of Digital Transmission: The Gaussian (Bell) Curve
and the Probability Value 843
9.1.2.1 Gaussian (Bell) Normal Probability Distribution 843
9.1.2.2 Finding the Probability Value with the Bell Curve 844
9.1.2.3 Standard Normal Probability Distribution 847
9.1.2.4 The Gaussian Curve and Q-Function 850
9.1.3 Assessing the Quality of Digital Transmission: Bit Error Rate and
More 852
9.1.3.1 Decision-Making Procedure in the Presence of Noise 852
9.1.3.2 The Probability of Error in Detecting the Received Signal: Bit
Error Rate (Ratio) 855
9.1.3.3 BER: A Discussion 858
9.1.4 Eye Diagram 860
9.1.4.1 Eye Diagram: The Concept 860
9.1.4.2 Estimating Transmission Quality with an Eye Diagram 865
Questions and Problems for Section 9.1 869
9.2 Introduction to Digital Transmission – Binary Shift-Keying Modulation 878
Objectives and Outcomes of Section 9.2 878
9.2.1 Digital Signal over a Sinusoidal Carrier – Binary Shift-Keying
Modulation 881
9.2.2 Binary Amplitude-Shift Keying (ASK) 881
9.2.2.1 ASK Concept and Waveform 881
9.2.2.2 Mathematical Description of ASK 883
9.2.2.3 ASK Spectrum 884
9.2.2.4 ASK Bandwidth 888
9.2.2.5 Bandwidth and Bit Rate of ASK 893
9.2.2.6 Bit Error Ratio, BER, of ASK System 895
9.2.2.7 ASK Advantages, Drawbacks, and Applications 898
9.2.2.8 Detection (Demodulation) of an ASK Signal 900
9.2.3 Binary Frequency-Shift Keying (FSK) 901
9.2.3.1 FSK Concept and Waveform 901
9.2.3.2 Mathematical Description of FSK 903
9.2.3.3 FSK Spectrum and Bandwidth with Square Wave
Message 904
9.2.3.4 FSK Spectrum and Bandwidth with a Rectangular Pulse-Train
Message 906
9.2.3.5 Bit Error Ratio, BER, and Remarks on our BFSK
Discussion 908
Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content
Vicente, a moon-faced gendarme, who looked more like a Mexican
Indian than a Maya or a Panamanian “breed,” lighted first on the
clue. All gathered about, like hounds around a tree into which the
‘possum has been run. In truth, it was a tree, or a rotten and hollow
stump of one, a dozen feet in height and a third as many feet in
diameter. Five feet from the ground was an opening. Above the
opening, pinned on by a thorn, was a sheet of paper the same size
as the first they had found. On it was written “100.”
In the scramble that ensued, half a dozen minutes were lost as half
a dozen right arms strove to be first in dipping into the hollow heart
of the stump to the treasure. But the hollow extended deeper than
their arms were long.
“We will chop down the stump,” Rafael cried, sounding with the back
of his machete against the side of it to locate the base of the hollow.
“We will all chop, and we will count what we find inside and divide
equally.”
By this time their leaders were frantic, and the Jefe had begun
threatening, the moment they were back in San Antonio, to send
them to San Juan where their carcasses would be picked by the
buzzards.
“But we are not back in San Antonio, thank God,” said Augustino,
breaking his sober seal of silence in order to enunciate wisdom.
“We are poor men, and we will divide in fairness,” spoke up Rafael.
“Augustino is right, and thank God for it that we are not back in San
Antonio. This rich Gringo scatters more money along the way in a
day for us to pick up than could we earn in a year where we come
from. I, for one, am for revolution, where money is so plentiful.”
“With the rich Gringo for a leader,” Augustino supplemented. “For as
long as he leads this way could I follow forever.”
“If,” Rafael nodded agreement, with a pitch of his head toward
Torres and the Jefe, “if they do not give us opportunity to gather
what the gods have spread for us, then to the last and deepest of
the roasting hells of hell for them. We are men, not slaves. The
world is wide. The Cordilleras are just beyond. We will all be rich,
and free men, and live in the Cordilleras where the Indian maidens
are wildly beautiful and desirable——”
“And we will be well rid of our wives, back in San Antonio,” said
Vicente. “Let us now chop down this treasure tree.”
Swinging their machetes with heavy, hacking blows, the wood, so
rotten that it was spongy, gave way readily before their blades. And
when the stump fell over, they counted and divided, in equity, not
one hundred silver dollars, but one hundred and forty-seven.
“He is generous, this Gringo,” quoth Vicente. “He leaves more than
he says. May there not be still more?”
And, from the debris of rotten wood, much of it crumbled to powder
under their blows, they recovered five more coins, in the doing of
which they lost ten more minutes that drove Torres and Jefe to the
verge of madness.
“He does not stop to count, the wealthy Gringo,” said Rafael. “He
must merely open that sack and pour it out. And that is the sack
with which he rode to the beach of San Antonio when he blew up
with dynamite the wall of our jail.”
The chase was resumed, and all went well for half an hour, when
they came upon an abandoned freehold, already half-overrun with
the returning jungle. A dilapidated, straw-thatched house, a fallen-in
labor barracks, a broken-down corral the very posts of which had
sprouted and leaved into growing trees, and a well showing recent
use by virtue of a fresh length of riata attaching bucket to well-
sweep, showed where some man had failed to tame the wild. And,
conspicuously on the well-sweep, was pinned a familiar sheet of
paper on which was written “300.”
“Mother of God!—a fortune!” cried Rafael.
“May the devil forever torture him in the last and deepest hell!” was
Torres’ contribution.
“He pays better than your Senor Regan,” the Jefe sneered in his
despair and disgust.
“His bag of silver is only so large,” Torres retorted. “It seems we
must pick it all up before we catch him. But when we have picked it
all up, and his bag is empty, then will we catch him.”
“We will go on now, comrades,” the Jefe addressed his posse
ingratiatingly. “Afterwards, we will return at our leisure and recover
the silver.”
Augustino broke his seal of silence again.
“One never knows the way of one’s return, if one ever returns,” he
enunciated pessimistically. Elated by the pearl of wisdom he had
dropped, he essayed another. “Three hundred in hand is better than
three million in the bottom of a well we may never see again.”
“Some one must descend into the well,” spoke Rafael, testing the
braided rope with his weight. “See! The riata is strong. We will lower
a man by it. Who is the brave one who will go down?”
“I,” said Vicente. “I will be the brave one to go down——”
“And steal half that you find,” Rafael uttered his instant suspicion. “If
you go down, first must you count over to us the pesos you already
possess. Then, when you come up, we can search you for all you
have found. After that, when we have divided equitably, will your
other pesos be returned to you.”
“Then will I not go down for comrades who have no trust in me,”
Vicente said stubbornly. “Here, beside the well, I am as wealthy as
any of you. Then why should I go down? I have heard of men dying
in the bottom of wells.”
“In God’s name go down!” stormed the Jefe. “Haste! Haste!”
“I am too fat, the rope is not strong, and I shall not go down,” said
Vicente.
All looked to Augustino, the silent one, who had already spoken
more than he was accustomed to speak in a week.
“Guillermo is the thinnest and lightest,” said Augustino.
“Guillermo will go down!” the rest chorused.
But Guillermo, glaring apprehensively at the mouth of the well,
backed away, shaking his head and crossing himself.
“Not for the sacred treasure in the secret city of the Mayas,” he
muttered.
The Jefe pulled his revolver and glanced to the remainder of the
posse for confirmation. With eyes and head-nods they gave it.
“In heaven’s name go down,” he threatened the little gendarme.
“And make haste, or I shall put you in such a fix that never again will
you go up or down, but you will remain here and rot forever beside
this hole of perdition.—Is it well, comrades, that I kill him if he does
not go down?”
“It is well,” they shouted.
And Guillermo, with trembling fingers, counted out the coins he had
already retrieved, and, in the throes of fear, crossing himself
repeatedly and urged on by the hand-thrusts of his companions,
stepped upon the bucket, sat down on it with legs wrapped about it,
and was lowered away out of the light of day.
“Stop!” he screamed up the shaft. “Stop! Stop! The water! I am
upon it!”
Those on the sweep held it with their weight.
“I should receive ten pesos extra above my share,” he called up.
“You shall receive baptism,” was called down to him, and, variously:
“You will have your fill of water this day”; “We will let go”; “We will
cut the rope”; “There will be one less with whom to share.”
“The water is not nice,” he replied, his voice rising like a ghost’s out
of the dark depth. “There are sick lizards, and a dead bird that
stinks. And there may be snakes. It is well worth ten pesos extra
what I must do.”
“We will drown you!” Rafael shouted.
“I shall shoot down upon you and kill you!” the Jefe bullied.
“Shoot or drown me,” Guillermo’s voice floated up; “but it will buy
you nothing, for the treasure will still be in the well.”
There was a pause, in which those at the surface questioned each
other with their eyes as to what they should do.
“And the Gringos are running away farther and farther,” Torres
fumed. “A fine discipline you have, Senor Mariano Vercara è Hijos,
over your gendarmes!”
“This is not San Antonio,” the Jefe flared back. “This is the bush of
Juchitan. My dogs are good dogs in San Antonio. In the bush they
must be handled gently, else may they become wild dogs, and what
then will happen to you and me?”
“It is the curse of gold,” Torres surrendered sadly. “It is almost
enough to make one become a socialist, with a Gringo thus tying the
hands of justice with ropes of gold.”
“Of silver,” the Jefe corrected.
“You go to hell,” said Torres. “As you have pointed out, this is not
San Antonio but the bush of Juchitan, and here I may well tell you to
go to hell. Why should you and I quarrel because of your bad
temper, when our prosperity depends on standing together?”
“Besides,” the voice of Guillermo drifted up, “the water is not two
feet deep. You cannot drown me in it. I have just felt the bottom
and I have four round silver pesos in my hand right now. The
bottom is carpeted with pesos. Do you want to let go? Or do I get
ten pesos extra for the filthy job? The water stinks like a fresh
graveyard.”
“Yes! Yes!” they shouted down.
“Which? Let go? Or the extra ten?”
“The extra ten!” they chorused.
“In God’s name, haste! haste!” cried the Jefe.
They heard splashings and curses from the bottom of the well, and,
from the lightening of the strain on the riata, knew that Guillermo
had left the bucket and was floundering for the coin.
“Put it in the bucket, good Guillermo,” Rafael called down.
“I am putting it in my pockets,” up came the reply. “Did I put it in
the bucket you might haul it up first and well forget to haul me up
afterward.”
“The double weight might break the riata,” Rafael cautioned.
“The riata may not be so strong as my will, for my will in this matter
is most strong,” said Guillermo.
“If the riata should break ...” Rafael began again.
“I have a solution,” said Guillermo. “Do you come down. Then shall I
go up first. Second, the treasure shall go up in the bucket. And, third
and last, shall you go up. Thus will justice be triumphant.”
Rafael, with dropped jaw of dismay, did not reply.
“Are you coming, Rafael?”
“No,” he answered. “Put all the silver in your pockets and come up
together with it.”
“I could curse the race that bore me,” was the impatient observation
of the Jefe.
“I have already cursed it,” said Torres.
“Haul away!” shouted Guillermo. “I have everything in my pockets
save the stench; and I am suffocating. Haul quick, or I shall perish,
and the three hundred pesos will perish with me. And there are
more than three hundred. He must have emptied his bag.”

Ahead, on the trail, where the way grew steep and the horses
without stamina rested and panted, Francis overtook his party.
“Never again shall I travel without minted coin of the realm,” he
exulted, as he described what he had remained behind to see from
the edge of the deserted plantation. “Henry, when I die and go to
heaven, I shall have a stout bag of cash along with me. Even there
could it redeem me from heaven alone knows what scrapes. Listen!
They fought like cats and dogs about the mouth of the well. Nobody
would trust anybody to descend into the well unless he deposited
what he had previously picked up with those that remained at the
top. They were out of hand. The Jefe, at the point of his gun, had to
force the littlest and leanest of them to go down. And when he was
down he blackmailed them before he would come up. And when he
came up they broke their promises and gave him a beating. They
were still beating him when I left.”
“But now your sack is empty,” said Henry.
“Which is our present and most pressing trouble,” Francis agreed.
“Had I sufficient pesos I could keep the pursuit well behind us
forever. I’m afraid I was too generous. I did not know how cheap the
poor devils were. But I’ll tell you something that will make your hair
stand up. Torres, Senor Torres, Senor Alvarez Torres, the elegant
gentleman and old-time friend of you Solanos, is leading the pursuit
along with the Jefe. He is furious at the delay. They almost had a
rupture because the Jefe couldn’t keep his men in hand. Yes, sir, and
he told the Jefe to go to hell. I distinctly heard him tell the Jefe to go
to hell.”
Five miles farther on, the horses of Leoncia and her father in
collapse, where the trail plunged into and ascended a dark ravine,
Francis urged the others on and dropped behind. Giving them a few
minutes’ start, he followed on behind, a self-constituted rearguard.
Part way along, in an open space where grew only a thick sod of
grass, he was dismayed to find the hoof-prints of the two horses
staring at him as large as dinner plates from out of the sod. Into the
hoof-prints had welled a dark, slimy fluid that his eye told him was
crude oil. This was but the beginning, a sort of seepage from a side
stream above off from the main flow. A hundred yards beyond he
came upon the flow itself, a river of oil that on such a slope would
have been a cataract had it been water. But being crude oil, as thick
as molasses, it oozed slowly down the hill like so much molasses.
And here, preferring to make his stand rather than to wade through
the sticky mess, Francis sat down on a rock, laid his rifle on one side
of him, his automatic pistol on the other side, rolled a cigarette, and
kept his ears pricked for the first sounds of the pursuit.

And the beaten peon, threatened with more beatings and belaboring
his over-ridden mare, rode across the top of the ravine above
Francis, and, at the oil-well itself, had his exhausted animal collapse
under him. With his heels he kicked her back to her feet, and with a
stick belabored her to stagger away from him and on and into the
jungle. And the first day of his adventures, although he did not know
it, was not yet over. He, too, squatted on a stone, his feet out of the
oil, rolled a cigarette, and, as he smoked it, contemplated the
flowing oil-well. The noise of approaching men startled him, and he
fled into the immediately adjacent jungle, from which he peered
forth and saw two strange men appear. They came directly to the
well, and, by an iron wheel turning the valve, choked down the flow
still further.
“No more,” commanded the one who seemed to be leader. “Another
turn, and the pressure will blow out the pipes—for so the Gringo
engineer has warned me most carefully.”
And a slight flow, beyond the limited safety, continued to run from
the mouth of the gusher down the mountain side. Scarcely had the
two men accomplished this, when a body of horsemen rode up,
whom the peon in hiding recognized as the haciendado who owned
him and the overseers and haciendados of neighboring plantations
who delighted in running down a fugitive laborer in much the same
way that the English delight in chasing the fox.
No, the two oil-men had seen nobody. But the haciendado who led
saw the footprints of the mare, and spurred his horse to follow, his
crowd at his heels.
The peon waited, smoked his cigarette quite to the finish, and
cogitated. When all was clear, he ventured forth, turned the
mechanism controlling the well wide open, watched the oil
fountaining upward under the subterranean pressure and flowing
down the mountain in a veritable river. Also, he listened to and
noted the sobbing, and gasping, and bubbling of the escaping gas.
This he did not comprehend, and all that saved him for his further
adventures was the fact that he had used his last match to light his
cigarette. In vain he searched his rags, his ears, and his hair. He was
out of matches.
So, chuckling at the river of oil he was wantonly running to waste,
and, remembering the canyon trail below, he plunged down the
mountainside and upon Francis, who received him with extended
automatic. Down went the peon on his frayed and frazzled knees in
terror and supplication to the man he had twice betrayed that day.
Francis studied him, at first without recognition, because of the
bruised and lacerated face and head on which the blood had dried
like a mask.
“Amigo, amigo,” chattered the peon.
But at that moment, from below on the ravine trail, Francis heard
the clatter of a stone dislodged by some man’s foot. The next
moment he identified what was left of the peon as the pitiable
creature to whom he had given half the contents of his whiskey
flask.
“Well, amigo,” Francis said in the native language, “it looks as if they
are after you.”
“They will kill me, they will beat me to death, they are very angry,”
the wretch quavered. “You are my only friend, my father and my
mother, save me.”
“Can you shoot?” Francis demanded.
“I was a hunter in the Cordilleras before I was sold into slavery,
Senor,” was the reply.
Francis passed him the automatic, motioned him to take shelter, and
told him not to fire until sure of a hit. And to himself he mused: The
golfers are out on the links right now at Tarrytown. And Mrs.
Bellingham is on the clubhouse veranda wondering how she is going
to pay the three thousand points she’s behind and praying for a
change of luck. And——here am I,—Lord! Lord——backed up to a
river of oil....
His musing ceased as abruptly as appeared the Jefe, Torres, and the
gendarmes down the trail. As abruptly he fired his rifle, and as
abruptly they fell back out of sight. He could not tell whether he had
hit one, or whether the man had merely fallen in precipitate retreat.
The pursuers did not care to make a rush of it, contenting
themselves with bushwhacking. Francis and the peon did the same,
sheltering behind rocks and bushes and frequently changing their
positions.
At the end of an hour, the last cartridge in Francis’ rifle was all that
remained. The peon, under his warnings and threats, still retained
two cartridges in the automatic. But the hour had been an hour
saved for Leoncia and her people, and Francis was contentedly
aware that at any moment he could turn and escape by wading
across the river of oil. So all was well, and would have been well,
had not, from above, come an eruption of another body of men,
who, from behind trees, fired as they descended. This was the
haciendado and his fellow haciendados, in chase of the fugitive peon
—although Francis did not know it. His conclusion was that it was
another posse that was after him. The shots they fired at him were
strongly confirmative.
The peon crawled to his side, showed him that two shots remained
in the automatic he was returning to him, and impressively begged
from him his box of matches. Next, the peon motioned him to cross
the bottom of the canyon and climb the other side. With half a guess
of the creature’s intention, Francis complied, from his new position
of vantage emptying his last rifle cartridge at the advancing posse
and sending it back into shelter down the ravine.
The next moment, the river of oil flared into flame from where the
peon had touched a match to it. In the following moment, clear up
the mountainside, the well itself sent a fountain of ignited gas a
hundred feet into the air. And, in the moment after, the ravine itself
poured a torrent of flame down upon the posse of Torres and the
Jefe.
Scorched by the heat of the conflagration, Francis and the peon
clawed up the opposite side of the ravine, circled around and past
the blazing trail, and, at a dog-trot, raced up the recovered trail.
 CHAPTER X

While Francis and the peon hurried up the ravine-trail in safety, the
ravine itself, below where the oil flowed in, had become a river of
flame, which drove the Jefe, Torres, and the gendarmes to scale the
steep wall of the ravine. At the same time the party of haciendados
in pursuit of the peon was compelled to claw back and up to escape
out of the roaring canyon.
Ever the peon glanced back over his shoulder, until, with a cry of joy,
he indicated a second black-smoke pillar rising in the air beyond the
first burning well.
“More,” he chuckled. “There are more wells. They will all burn. And
so shall they and all their race pay for the many blows they have
beaten on me. And there is a lake of oil there, like the sea, like
Juchitan Inlet it is so big.”
And Francis recollected the lake of oil about which the haciendado
had told him—that, containing at least five million barrels which
could not yet be piped to sea transport, lay open to the sky, merely
in a natural depression in the ground and contained by an earth
dam.
“How much are you worth?” he demanded of the peon with
apparent irrelevance.
But the peon could not understand.
“How much are your clothes worth—all you’ve got on?”
“Half a peso, nay, half of a half peso,” the peon admitted ruefully,
surveying what was left of his tattered rags.
“And other property?”
The wretched creature shrugged his shoulders in token of his utter
destitution, then added bitterly:
“I possess nothing but a debt. I owe two hundred and fifty pesos. I
am tied to it for life, damned with it for life like a man with a cancer.
That is why I am a slave to the haciendado.”
“Huh!” Francis could not forbear to grin. “Worth two hundred and
fifty pesos less than nothing, not even a cipher, a sheer abstraction
of a minus quantity without existence save in the mathematical
imagination of man, and yet here you are burning up not less than
millions of pesos’ worth of oil. And if the strata is loose and erratic
and the oil leaks up outside the tubing, the chances are that the oil-
body of the entire field is ignited—say a billion dollars’ worth. Say,
for an abstraction enjoying two hundred and fifty dollars’ worth of
non-existence, you are some hombre, believe me.”
Nothing of which the peon understood save the word “hombre.”
“I am a man,” he proclaimed, thrusting out his chest and
straightening up his bruised head. “I am a hombre and I am a
Maya.”
“Maya Indian—you?” Francis scoffed.
“Half Maya,” was the reluctant admission. “My father is pure Maya.
But the Maya women of the Cordilleras did not satisfy him. He must
love a mixed-breed woman of the tierra caliente. I was so born; but
she afterward betrayed him for a Barbadoes nigger, and he went
back to the Cordilleras to live. And, like my father, I was born to love
a mixed breed of the tierra caliente. She wanted money, and my
head was fevered with want of her, and I sold myself to be a peon
for two hundred pesos. And I saw never her nor the money again.
For five years I have been a peon. For five years I have slaved and
been beaten, and behold, at the end of five years my debt is not two
hundred but two hundred and fifty pesos.”
And while Francis Morgan and the long-suffering Maya half-breed
plodded on deeper into the Cordilleras to overtake their party, and
while the oil fields of Juchitan continued to go up in increasing
smoke, still farther on, in the heart of the Cordilleras, were preparing
other events destined to bring together all pursuers and all pursued
—Francis and Henry and Leoncia and their party; the peon; the
party of the haciendados; and the gendarmes of the Jefe, and, along
with them, Alvarez Torres, eager to win for himself not only the
promised reward of Thomas Regan but the possession of Leoncia
Solano.
In a cave sat a man and a woman. Pretty the latter was, and young,
a mestiza, or half-caste woman. By the light of a cheap kerosene
lamp she read aloud from a calf-bound tome which was a Spanish
translation of Blackstone. Both were barefooted and bare-armed,
clad in hooded gabardines of sackcloth. Her hood lay back on her
shoulders, exposing her black and generous head of hair. But the old
man’s hood was cowled about his head after the fashion of a monk.
The face, lofty and ascetic, beaked with power, was pure Spanish.
Don Quixote might have worn precisely a similar face. But there was
a difference. The eyes of this old man were closed in the perpetual
dark of the blind. Never could he behold a windmill at which to tilt.
He sat, while the pretty mestiza read to him, listening and brooding,
for all the world in the pose of Rodin’s “Thinker.” Nor was he a
dreamer, nor a tilter of windmills, like Don Quixote. Despite his
blindness, that ever veiled the apparent face of the world in
invisibility, he was a man of action, and his soul was anything but
blind, penetrating unerringly beneath the show of things to the heart
and the soul of the world and reading its inmost sins and rapacities
and noblenesses and virtues.
He lifted his hand and put a pause in the reading, while he thought
aloud from the context of the reading.
“The law of man,” he said with slow certitude, “is to-day a game of
wits. Not equity, but wit, is the game of law to-day. The law in its
inception was good; but the way of the law, the practice of it, has
led men off into false pursuits. They have mistaken the way for the
goal, the means for the end. Yet is law law, and necessary, and
good. Only, law, in its practice to-day, has gone astray. Judges and
lawyers engage in competitions and affrays of wit and learning, quite
forgetting the plaintiffs and defendants, before them and paying
them, who are seeking equity and justice and not wit and learning.
“Yet is old Blackstone right. Under it all, at the bottom of it all, at the
beginning of the building of the edifice of the law, is the quest, the
earnest and sincere quest of righteous men, for justice and equity.
But what is it that the Preacher said? ‘They made themselves many
inventions.’ And the law, good in its beginning, has been invented
out of all its intent, so that it serves neither litigants nor injured
ones, but merely the fatted judges and the lean and hungry lawyers
who achieve names and paunches if they prove themselves cleverer
than their opponents and than the judges who render decision.”
He paused, still posed as Rodin’s “Thinker,” and meditated, while the
mestiza woman waited his customary signal to resume the reading.
At last, as out of a profound of thought in which universes had been
weighed in the balance, he spoke:
“But we have law, here in the Cordilleras of Panama, that is just and
right and all of equity. We work for no man and serve not even
paunches. Sack-cloth and not broadcloth conduces to the equity of
judicial decision. Read on, Mercedes. Blackstone is always right if
always rightly read—which is what is called a paradox, and is what
modern law ordinarily is, a paradox. Read on. Blackstone is the very
foundation of human law—but, oh, how many wrongs are cleverly
committed by clever men in his name!”
Ten minutes later, the blind thinker raised his head, sniffed the air,
and gestured the girl to pause. Taking her cue from him, she, too,
sniffed:
“Perhaps it is the lamp, O Just One,” she suggested.
“It is burning oil,” he said. “But it is not the lamp. It is from far away.
Also, have I heard shooting in the canyons.”
“I heard nothing——” she began.
“Daughter, you who see have not the need to hear that I have.
There have been many shots fired in the canyons. Order my children
to investigate and make report.”
Bowing reverently to the old man who could not see but who, by
keen-trained hearing and conscious timing of her every muscular
action, knew that she had bowed, the young woman lifted the
curtain of blankets and passed out into the day. At either side the
cave-mouth sat a man of the peon class. Each was armed with rifle
and machete, while through their girdles were thrust naked-bladed
knives. At the girl’s order, both arose and bowed, not to her, but to
the command and the invisible source of the command. One of them
tapped with the back of his machete against the stone upon which
he had been sitting, then laid his ear to the stone and listened. In
truth, the stone was but the out-jut of a vein of metalliferous ore
that extended across and through the heart of the mountain. And
beyond, on the opposite slope, in an eyrie commanding the
magnificent panorama of the descending slopes of the Cordilleras,
sat another peon who first listened with his ear pressed to similar
metalliferous quartz, and next tapped response with his machete.
After that, he stepped half a dozen paces to a tall tree, half-dead,
reached into the hollow heart of it, and pulled on the rope within as
a man might pull who was ringing a steeple bell.
But no sound was evoked. Instead, a lofty branch, fifty feet above
his head, sticking out from the main-trunk like a semaphore arm,
moved up and down like the semaphore arm it was. Two miles away,
on a mountain crest, the branch of a similar semaphore tree replied.
Still beyond that, and farther down the slopes, the flashing of a
hand-mirror in the sun heliographed the relaying of the blind man’s
message from the cave. And all that portion of the Cordilleras
became voluble with coded speech of vibrating ore-veins, sun-
flashings, and waving tree-branches.
While Enrico Solano, slenderly erect on his horse as an Indian youth
and convoyed on either side by his sons, Alesandro and Ricardo,
hanging to his saddle trappings, made the best of the time afforded
them by Francis’ rearguard battle with the gendarmes, Leoncia, on
her mount, and Henry Morgan, lagged behind. One or the other was
continually glancing back for the sight of Francis overtaking them.
Watching his opportunity, Henry took the back-trail. Five minutes
afterward, Leoncia, no less anxious than he for Francis’ safety, tried
to turn her horse about. But the animal, eager for the
companionship of its mate ahead, refused to obey the rein, cut up
and pranced, and then deliberately settled into a balk. Dismounting
and throwing her reins on the ground in the Panamanian method of
tethering a saddle horse, Leoncia took the back-trail on foot. So
rapidly did she follow Henry, that she was almost treading on his
heels when he encountered Francis and the peon. The next moment,
both Henry and Francis were chiding her for her conduct; but in both
their voices was the involuntary tenderness of love, which pleased
neither to hear the other uttering.
Their hearts more active than their heads, they were caught in total
surprise by the party of haciendados that dashed out upon them
with covering rifles from the surrounding jungle. Despite the fact
that they had thus captured the runaway peon, whom they
proceeded to kick and cuff, all would have been well with Leoncia
and the two Morgans had the owner of the peon, the old-time friend
of the Solano family, been present. But an attack of the malarial
fever, which was his due every third day, had stretched him out in a
chill near the burning oilfield.
Nevertheless, though by their blows they reduced the peon to
weepings and pleadings on his knees, the haciendados were
courteously gentle to Leoncia and quite decent to Francis and Henry,
even though they tied the hands of the latter two behind them in
preparation for the march up the ravine slope to where the horses
had been left. But upon the peon, with Latin-American cruelty, they
continued to reiterate their rage.
Yet were they destined to arrive nowhere, by themselves, with their
captives. Shouts of joy heralded the debouchment upon the scene of
the Jefe’s gendarmes and of the Jefe and Alvarez Torres. Arose at
once the rapid-fire, staccato, bastard-Latin of all men of both parties
of pursuers, trying to explain and demanding explanation at one and
the same time. And while the farrago of all talking simultaneously
and of no one winning anywhere in understanding, made anarchy of
speech, Torres, with a nod to Francis and a sneer of triumph to
Henry, ranged before Leoncia and bowed low to her in true and
deep hidalgo courtesy and respect.
“Listen!” he said, low-voiced, as she rebuffed him with an arm
movement of repulsion. “Do not misunderstand me. Do not mistake
me. I am here to save you, and, no matter what may happen, to
protect you. You are the lady of my dreams. I will die for you—yes,
and gladly, though far more gladly would I live for you.”
“I do not understand,” she replied curtly. “I do not see life or death
in the issue. We have done no wrong. I have done no wrong, nor
has my father. Nor has Francis Morgan, nor has Henry Morgan.
Therefore, sir, the matter is not a question of life or death.”
Henry and Francis, shouldering close to Leoncia, on either side,
listened and caught through the hubble-bubble of many voices the
conversation of Leoncia and Torres.
“It is a question absolute of certain death by execution for Henry
Morgan,” Torres persisted. “Proven beyond doubt is his conviction for
the murder of Alfaro Solano, who was your own full-blood uncle and
your father’s own full-blood brother. There is no chance to save
Henry Morgan. But Francis Morgan can I save in all surety, if——”
“If?” Leoncia queried, with almost the snap of jaws of a she-leopard.
“If ... you prove kind to me, and marry me,” Torres said with
magnificent steadiness, although two Gringos, helpless, their hands
tied behind their backs, glared at him through their eyes their
common desire for his immediate extinction.
Torres, in a genuine outburst of his passion, though his rapid glances
had assured him of the helplessness of the two Morgans, seized her
hands in his and urged:
“Leoncia, as your husband I might be able to do something for
Henry. Even may it be possible for me to save his life and his neck, if
he will yield to leaving Panama immediately.”
“You Spanish dog!” Henry snarled at him, struggling with his tied
hands behind his back in an effort to free them.
“Gringo cur!” Torres retorted, as, with an open backhanded blow, he
struck Henry on the mouth.
On the instant Henry’s foot shot out, and the kick in Torres’ side
drove him staggering in the direction of Francis, who was no less
quick with a kick of his own. Back and forth like a shuttlecock
between the battledores, Torres was kicked from one man to the
other, until the gendarmes seized the two Gringos and began to beat
them in their helplessness. Torres not only urged the gendarmes on,
but himself drew a knife; and a red tragedy might have happened
with offended Latin-American blood up and raging, had not a score
or more of armed men silently appeared and silently taken charge of
the situation. Some of the mysterious newcomers were clad in
cotton singlets and trousers, and others were in cowled gabardines
of sackcloth.
The gendarmes and haciendados recoiled in fear, crossing
themselves, muttering prayers and ejaculating: “The Blind Brigand!”
“The Cruel Just One!” “They are his people!” “We are lost.”
But the much-beaten peon sprang forward and fell on his bleeding
knees before a stern-faced man who appeared to be the leader of
the Blind Brigand’s men. From the mouth of the peon poured forth a
stream of loud lamentation and outcry for justice.
“You know that justice to which you appeal?” the leader spoke
gutturally.
“Yes, the Cruel Justice,” the peon replied. “I know what it means to
appeal to the Cruel Justice, yet do I appeal, for I seek justice and
my cause is just.”
“I, too, demand the Cruel Justice!” Leoncia cried with flashing eyes,
although she added in an undertone to Francis and Henry:
“Whatever the Cruel Justice is.”
“It will have to go some to be unfairer than the justice we can
expect from Torres and the Jefe,” Henry replied in similar
undertones, then stepped forward boldly before the cowled leader
and said loudly: “And I demand the Cruel Justice.”
The leader nodded.
“Me, too,” Francis murmured low, and then made loud demand.
The gendarmes did not seem to count in the matter, while the
haciendados signified their willingness to abide by whatever justice
the Blind Brigand might mete out to them. Only the Jefe objected.
“Maybe you don’t know who I am,” he blustered. “I am Mariano
Vercara è Hijos, of long illustrious name and long and honorable
career. I am Jefe Politico of San Antonio, the highest friend of the
governor, and high in the confidence of the government of the
Republic of Panama. I am the law. There is but one law and one
justice, which is of Panama and not the Cordilleras. I protest against
this mountain law you call the Cruel Justice. I shall send an army
against your Blind Brigand, and the buzzards will peck his bones in
San Juan.”
“Remember,” Torres sarcastically warned the irate Jefe, “that this is
not San Antonio, but the bush of Juchitan. Also, you have no army.”
“Have these two men been unjust to any one who has appealed to
the Cruel Justice?” the leader asked abruptly.
“Yes,” asseverated the peon. “They have beaten me. Everybody has
beaten me. They, too, have beaten me and without cause. My hand
is bloody. My body is bruised and torn. Again I appeal to the Cruel
Justice, and I charge these two men with injustice.”
The leader nodded and to his own men indicated the disarming of
the prisoners and the order of the march.
“Justice!—I demand equal justice!” Henry cried out. “My hands are
tied behind my back. All hands should be so tied, or no hands be so
tied. Besides, it is very difficult to walk when one is so tied.”
The shadow of a smile drifted the lips of the leader as he directed
his men to cut the lashings that invidiously advertised the inequality
complained of.
“Huh!” Francis grinned to Leoncia and Henry. “I have a vague
memory that somewhere around a million years ago I used to live in
a quiet little old burg called New York, where we foolishly thought
we were the wildest and wickedest that ever cracked at a golf ball,
electrocuted an Inspector of Police, battled with Tammany, or bid
four nullos with five sure tricks in one’s own hand.”
“Huh!” Henry vouchsafed half an hour later, as the trail, from a
lesser crest, afforded a view of higher crests beyond. “Huh! and
hell’s bells! These gunny-sack chaps are not animals of savages.
Look, Henry! They are semaphoring! See that near tree there, and
that big one across the canyon. Watch the branches wave.”

Blindfold for a number of miles at the last, the prisoners, still

blindfolded, were led into the cave where the Cruel Justice reigned.
When the bandages were removed, they found themselves in a vast
and lofty cavern, lighted by many torches, and, confronting them, a
blind and white-haired man in sackcloth seated on a rock-hewn
throne, with, beneath him, her shoulder at his knees, a pretty
mestiza woman.
The blind man spoke, and in his voice was the thin and bell-like
silver of age and weary wisdom.
“The Cruel Justice has been invoked. Speak! Who demands decision
and equity?”
All held back, and not even the Jefe could summon heart of courage
to protest against Cordilleras law.
“There is a woman present,” continued the Blind Brigand. “Let her
speak first. All mortal men and women are guilty of something or
else are charged by their fellows with some guilt.”
Henry and Francis were for with-straining her, but with an equal
smile to them she addressed the Cruel Just One in clear and ringing
tones:
“I only have aided the man I am engaged to marry to escape from
death for a murder he did not commit.”
“You have spoken,” said the Blind Brigand. “Come forward to me.”
Piloted by sackcloth men, while the two Morgans who loved her
were restless and perturbed, she was made to kneel at the blind
man’s knees. The mestiza girl placed his hand on Leoncia’s head. For
a full and solemn minute silence obtained, while the steady fingers
of the Blind One rested about her forehead and registered the pulse-
beats of her temples. Then he removed his hand and leaned back to
decision.
“Arise, Senorita,” he pronounced. “Your heart is clean of evil. You go
free.—Who else appeals to the Cruel Justice?”
Francis immediately stepped forward.
“I likewise helped the man to escape from an undeserved death. The
man and I are of the same name, and, distantly, of the same blood.”
He, too, knelt, and felt the soft finger-lobes play delicately over his
brows and temples and come to rest finally on the pulse of his wrist.
“It is not all clear to me,” said the Blind One. “You are not at rest nor
at peace with your soul. There is trouble within you that vexes you.”
Suddenly the peon stepped forth and spoke unbidden, his voice
evoking a thrill as of the shock of blasphemy from the sackcloth
men.
“Oh, Just One, let this man go,” said the peon passionately. “Twice
was I weak and betrayed him to his enemy this day, and twice this
day has he protected me from my enemy and saved me.”
And the peon, once again on his knees, but this time at the knees of
justice, thrilled and shivered with superstitious awe, as he felt
wander over him the light but firm finger-touches of the strangest
judge man ever knelt before. Bruises and lacerations were swiftly
explored even to the shoulders and down the back.
“The other man goes free,” the Cruel Just One announced. “Yet is
there trouble and unrest within him. Is one here who knows and will
speak up?”
And Francis knew on the instant the trouble the blind man had
divined within him—the full love that burned in him for Leoncia and
that threatened to shatter the full loyalty he must ever bear to
Henry. No less quick was Leoncia in knowing, and could the blind
man have beheld the involuntary glance of knowledge the man and
woman threw at each other and the immediate embarrassment of
averted eyes, he could have unerringly diagnosed Francis’ trouble.
The mestiza girl saw, and with a leap at her heart scented a love
affair. Likewise had Henry seen and unconsciously scowled.
The Just One spoke:
“An affair of heart undoubtedly,” he dismissed the matter. “The
eternal vexation of woman in the heart of man. Nevertheless, this
man stands free. Twice, in the one day, has he succored the man
who twice betrayed him. Nor has the trouble within him aught to do
with the aid he rendered the man said to be sentenced to death
undeserved. Remains to question this last man; also to settle for this
beaten creature before me who twice this day has proved weak out
of selfishness, and who has just now proved bravely strong out of
unselfishness for another.”
He leaned forward and played his fingers searchingly over the face
and brows of the peon.
“Are you afraid to die?” he asked suddenly.
“Great and Holy One, I am sore afraid to die,” was the peon’s reply.
“Then say that you have lied about this man, say that his twice
succoring of you was a lie, and you shall live.”
Under the Blind One’s fingers the peon cringed and wilted.
“Think well,” came the solemn warning. “Death is not good. To be
forever unmoving, as the clod and rock, is not good. Say that you
have lied and life is yours. Speak!”
But, although his voice shook from the exquisiteness of his fear, the
peon rose to the full spiritual stature of a man.
“Twice this day did I betray him, Holy One. But my name is not
Peter. Not thrice in this day will I betray him. I am sore afraid, but I
cannot betray him thrice.”
The blind judge leaned back and his face beamed and glowed as if
transfigured.
“Well spoken,” he said. “You have the makings of a man. I now lay
my sentence upon you: From now on, through all your days under
the sun, you shall always think like a man, act like a man, be a man.
Better to die a man any time, than live a beast forever in time. The
Ecclesiast was wrong. A dead lion is always better than a live dog.
Go free, regenerate son, go free.”
But, as the peon, at a signal from the mestiza, started to rise, the
blind judge stopped him.
“In the beginning, O man who but this day has been born man,
what was the cause of all your troubles?”
“My heart was weak and hungry, O Holy One, for a mixed-breed
woman of the tierra caliente. I myself am mountain born. For her I
put myself in debt to the haciendado for the sum of two hundred
pesos. She fled with the money and another man. I remained the
slave of the haciendado, who is not a bad man, but who, first and
always, is a haciendado. I have toiled, been beaten, and have
suffered for five long years, and my debt is now become two