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Computer Security: Principles and Practice, 3rd Edition Chapter 6

Chapter 6 – Malicious Software

Answer Key

TRUE/FALSE QUESTIONS:

1. T
2. F
3. F
4. T
5. F
6. T
7. T
8. F
9. T
10. T
11. T
12. T
13. F
14. T
15. T

MULTIPLE CHOICE QUESTIONS:

1. C
2. B
3. A
4. B
5. C
6. D
7. D
8. A
9. C
10. B
11. A
12. B
13. C
14. D
15. B
Computer Security: Principles and Practice, 3rd Edition Chapter 6

SHORT ANSWER QUESTIONS:

1. rootkit
2. blended attack
3. virus
4. infection mechanism
5. trigger
6. propagation
7. triggering
8. stealth
9. Mobile
10. drive-by-download
11. botnet
12. keylogger
13. anti-virus
14. digital immune system
15. Generic decryption (GD)
Other documents randomly have
different content
Philip, proud in the knowledge that he was cleared of all dishonor,
was at no loss for words now.
"First, I wish to thank you, sir," he said. "You have acted most kindly
toward me, and, when I am older, I hope to be permitted to
acknowledge your thoughtfulness better than is possible to-day. I
will endeavor to take care of myself. I am going now to see Mr.
Isaacstein. I do not expect that he will send for a policeman again. If
he does, I will bring him before you."
The magistrate himself laughed at this sally.
"You are a strange boy," he said. "I think you are acting wisely. But—
er—you have no money—that is, in a sense. Hatton Garden is some
distance from here. Let me—er—lend you a cab fare."
"Thank you, sir," said Philip, and Mr. Abingdon, unable to account for
the interest he felt in the boy, quite apart from his inexplicable story,
gave him five shillings and shook hands with him.
 CHAPTER VII.
A Business Transaction.
Outside the police court, Philip drew as invigorating a breath of fresh
air as the atmosphere of Clerkenwell permitted. He knew that an
inspector of police and a couple of constables were gazing at him
curiously through an office window, and the knowledge quickened
his wits.
It was worth even more than his liberty to realize that, in all
reasonable probability, his meteor was safe as yet. The police had
failed in their quest; whom else had he to fear? The company had
informed his mother that her tenancy of Johnson's Mews would not
be disturbed before the thirty-first. Of course, her death was known
to the firm, but their written promise to her was verbally confirmed
to Philip by the manager. It was now the twenty-fifth. He had five
clear days, perhaps six, in which to make all his arrangements. The
forced seclusion of the prison had helped him in one way—it gave
him a program, a detailed plan. Each step had been carefully
thought out, and Isaacstein's office was the first stage in the
campaign.
A prowling hansom passed. Philip whistled.
"Where's the fare?" demanded the cabman, angrily, looking up and
down the street.
"Drive me to Holborn Viaduct, quick," said the boy, with his foot on
the step.
Cabby eyed him with scorn.
"What's the gyme?" he growled. "D'yer tyke me for a mug, or what?"
"Oh, don't talk so much," cried Philip, impatiently. "Are you afraid I
won't pay you? See! If you lose no more time, I will give you this,"
and he held up a two-shilling piece for the cabman's edification.
It is difficult to surprise your true Cockney whip. The man carefully
folded the evening paper he had been reading, stuffed it under the
strap which held his rug and cape, and chirruped to his horse:
"Kim up, lazy bones! We've got a millionaire crossin'-sweeper inside.
What, ho! Any bloomin' perfession is better'n drivin' a keb."
The run was shorter than Philip anticipated, but, true to his promise,
he proffered the two shillings.
The cabman looked at him. Something in the boy's face seemed to
strike him as curious, and, notwithstanding Philip's rags, his skin was
scrupulously clean.
"Gow on," he cried. "I'll make yer a present of that trip. 'Ope it'll giv
yer a fresh stawt in the world. Kim up, will yer!" And the hansom
swung away into the traffic, leaving the boy standing on the
pavement on the north side of the viaduct. He made a mental note
of the cab's number. It was easy to remember—three 8's and a 9—
and walked on toward Hatton Garden.
Meanwhile the cabman, after varying luck, drove to his yard,
changed horses, secured a fare to a theater, and joined the
Haymarket rank while he took a meal in the cabmen's shelter.
"What's to-day's bettin' on the National?" he asked a friend.
The evening paper was passed and he cast an eye over its columns.
Suddenly he rapped out a string of expressions that amazed his
companions.
"What's the matter, Jimmie? Missed a twenty to one chance at
Lincoln?"
"Great Scott! I thought he'd lift the roof off."
"Go easy, mate. There's lydies outside."
But the cabman still swore and gazed round-eyed at the sheet. And
this is what he read:

"The boy, Philip Morland, whose possession of a collection of

meteoric diamonds of great value has created so much
sensation, was brought up on remand to-day at the Clerkenwell
Police Court, and released. Mr. Abingdon thought fit to hear the
case in camera, so this ragged urchin is wandering about
London again with a pocketful of gems. He was last seen
entering a cab in the neighborhood of the police court, and
inquiry by our representative at the Hatton Garden offices of Mr.
Isaacstein, the diamond merchant, whose name has figured in
connection with the case, elicited the information that Morland
called there about 3 P.M. Mr. Isaacstein positively refused to
make any further statement for publication, but it is probable
that developments in this peculiar and exciting affair will take
place at any moment."

In a word, the journalistic world was exceedingly wroth with both Mr.
Abingdon and the Jew for balking it of a very readable bit of news.
No effort would be spared to defeat their obvious purpose. Philip
must be discovered by hook or by crook, and badgered incessantly
until he divulged the secret of the meteor.
At last the cabman became lucid.
"I'm done," he groaned. "My brains are a fuzzball. 'Ere! Some one
drink my beer. I'm goin' in fer cow-cow. I 'ad this young spark in my
keb to-d'y an' didn't know it. 'E offered me two bob, 'e did, an' I
stood 'im a drive as a treat, 'e looked sich a scarecrow."
"Who's next?" cried a raucous voice at the door.
"I am," roared the disappointed one.
"Well, look sharp. There's a hold gent a-wavin' 'is humbreller like
mad——"
"Keep 'im. Don't let 'im go. I'll be there in 'arf a tick. Who knows!
P'raps it's Rothschild."
Meanwhile Philip did not hesitate an instant once he reached
Isaacstein's office. A new note in his character was revealing itself.
Always resolute, fearless and outspoken, now he was confident. He
pushed open the swing door with the manner of one who expects
his fellows to bow before him. Was he not rich—able to command
the services of men—why should he falter? He forgot his rags, forgot
the difficulties and dangers that might yet beset his path, for in very
truth he had achieved but little actual progress since he first entered
that office five days earlier.
But he had suffered much since then, and suffering had
strengthened him. Moreover, he had taken the measure of
Isaacstein. There was a score to be wiped off before that worthy
and he entered into amicable business relations.
The instant the immature Jew behind the grille set eyes on Philip, he
bounded back from the window and gazed at him with a frightened
look. Had this young desperado broken out of prison and come to
murder them all?
"Help! help!" he shouted. "Murder!"
Clerks came running from the inner office, among them the elderly
man who interfered in Philip's behalf on the last occasion.
"Make that idiot shut up," said Philip, calmly, "and tell Mr. Isaacstein
I am here."
The office boy was silenced, and the excitement calmed down. Yes,
the diamond merchant was in. If Philip would walk upstairs to the
waiting room, his presence would be announced.
"Thank you," he said; "but kindly see that this urchin does not let
others know I am here. I don't want a crowd to be gathered in the
street when I come out."
Such cool impudence from a ragamuffin was intolerable, or nearly
so. But Isaacstein ruled his minions with a rod of iron, and they
would fain wait the little man's pleasure ere they ventured their
wrath on the boy. Besides, they were afraid of Philip. Like most
people in London, they had read the newspaper reports of the police
court proceedings, and they were awed by his strangely
incomprehensible surroundings.
So he was silently ushered upstairs, and soon he caught the thick-
voiced order of Isaacstein:
"Show him in."
The Jew, however, dived into his private sanctum before Philip
entered the general office. The boy found him there, seated at his
table.
The duel began with questions:
"How did you get out so soon? You were remanded for a week."
"Are you going to send for a policeman?"
"Don't be rude, boy, but answer me."
"I am not here to satisfy your curiosity, Mr. Isaacstein. I have called
simply on a matter of business. It is sufficient for you to know that
Mr. Abingdon has set me at liberty and restored my property to me.
Do you wish to deal with me or not?"
The diamond merchant tingled with anger. He was not accustomed
to being browbeaten even by the representatives of the De Beers
Company, yet here was a callow youngster addressing him in this
outrageous fashion, betraying, too, an insufferable air of contempt in
voice and manner. He glared at Philip in silent wrath for an instant.
The boy smiled. He took from his pocket the paper of diamonds and
began to count them. The action said plainly:
"You know you cannot send me away. If I go to your trade rivals you
will lose a magnificent opportunity. You are in my hands. No matter
how rude I am to you, you must put up with it."
Nevertheless, the Jew made an effort to preserve his tottering
dignity.
"Do you think," he said, "that you are behaving properly in treating a
man of my position in such a way in his own office?"
In his own office—that was the sting of it.
The head of the firm of Isaacstein & Co., of London, Amsterdam and
Kimberley, to be bearded in such fashion in his own particular shrine!
Why, the thing was monstrous!
Philip looked him squarely in the eyes.
"Mr. Isaacstein," he said, calmly, "have you forgotten that you
caused me to be arrested as a thief and dragged, handcuffed,
through the open streets by a policeman? I have spent five days in
jail because of you. At the moment when I was praising your
honesty you were conveying secret signals to your clerks in the
belief that I was something worse than a pickpocket. Was your
treatment of me so free from blame at our first meeting as to serve
as a model at the second?"
The chair was creaking now continuously; the Jew swung from side
to side during this lecture. He strove hard to restrain himself, but the
feverish excitement of Saturday returned with greater intensity than
ever. He jumped up, and Philip imagined for a second that robbery
with violence was imminent.
"Confound it all, boy!" yelled the merchant, "what was I to do when
a ragged loafer like you came in and showed me a diamond worth a
thousand pounds and told me he had dozens, hundreds, more like
it? Did you expect me to risk standing in the dock by your side? Who
could have given fairer evidence in your behalf than I did? Who
proved that you could not have stolen the stones? Whom have you
to thank for being at liberty now, but the expert who swore that no
such diamonds had been seen before in this world?"
Philip waited until the man's passion had exhausted itself. Then he
went on coolly:
"That is your point of view, I suppose. Mine is that you could have
satisfied yourself concerning all those points without sending me to
prison. However, this discussion is beside the present question. Will
you buy my diamonds?"
Isaacstein recovered his seat. He wiped his face vigorously, but the
trading instinct conquered his fury.
"Yes," he snapped. "How much do you want for them?"
"I notice that their value steadily increases. The first time you saw
this diamond"—and he held up the stone originally exhibited to the
Jew—"you said it was worth six or seven hundred pounds. To-day
you name a thousand. However, I will take your own valuation for
this unimportant collection, and accept fifty thousand pounds."
"Oh, you will, will you! And how will you have it, in notes or gold?"
He could not help this display of cheap sarcasm. The situation was
losing its annoyance; the humor of it was beginning to dawn on him.
When his glance rested more critically on Philip, the boy's age, the
poverty of his circumstances, the whole fantastic incongruity of the
affair, forced his recognition.
Not unprepared for such a retort, Philip gathered the stones
together, and twisted the ends of the paper. Evidently the parcel was
going back into his pocket. He glanced at a clock, too, which ticked
solemnly over the office door.
"Here, what are you doing?" cried Isaacstein.
"Going to some one who will deal with me in a reasonable manner.
It is not very late yet. I suppose there are plenty of firms like yours
in Hatton Garden, or I can go back to Mr. Wilson——"
"Sit down. Sit down," growled the Jew, vainly striving to cloak his
nervousness by a show of grim jocosity. "I never saw such a boy in
my life. You are touchy as gunpowder. I was only joking."
"I am not joking, Mr. Isaacstein. Your price is my price—fifty
thousand pounds."
"Do you think I carry that amount of money in my purse?"
demanded Isaacstein, striving desperately to think out some means
whereby he could get Philip into more amiable mood, when,
perchance, the true story of the gems might be revealed.
"No," was the answer. "Even if you gave it to me I should not take it
away. I want you to advance, say fifty pounds, to-day. I require
clothes—and other things. Then, to-morrow, you can bring me to a
bank, and pay a portion of the purchase price to my credit, giving
me at the same time a written promise to pay the remainder within
a week, or a month—any reasonable period, in fact."
The diamond merchant was quickly becoming serious, methodical,
as he listened. This business-like proposal was the one thing needed
to restore his bewildered faculties.
"Tell me, boy," he said, "who has been advising you?"
"No one."
"Do you mean to say you came here to-day to trade with me without
consulting any other person?"
"I certainly told Mr. Abingdon I was coming, and I feel that I can
always return to him for any advice if I am in a difficulty, but the
offer I have just made is my own."
Watching Isaacstein's face was an interesting operation to Philip.
Under ordinary conditions he might as well expect to find emotion
depicted in a pound of butter as in that oily countenance, with its set
expression molded by years of sharp dealings. But to-day the man
was startled out of all the accustomed grooves of business. He was
confronted with a problem so novel that his experience was not wide
enough to embrace it.
So Philip caught a gleam of resentment at the introduction of the
magistrate's name, and he instantly resolved to see Mr. Abingdon
again at the earliest opportunity.
"Oh, he treated you kindly to-day, did he?" snarled Isaacstein.
"Yes, most kindly."
"You don't drink, I suppose?" broke in the other, abruptly.
"No. I am only a boy of fifteen, and do not need stimulants."
He was favored with a sharp glance at this remark, but he bent over
his diamonds again and began to examine them, one by one. He
knew that the action was tantalizing to his companion, and that is
why he did it.
Isaacstein went to a sideboard and poured out a stiff glass of
brandy. He swallowed it as an ordinary person takes an oyster.
"That's better," he said, returning to his desk. "Now we can get to
close quarters. Hand over the stones."
Philip did nothing of the sort.
"Why?" he inquired, blandly. "You know all about them. You can
hardly want to examine them so frequently."
"Confound it!" cried Isaacstein, growing red with renewed
impatience, "what more can I do than agree to your terms?"
"I asked you for an advance of fifty pounds. I said nothing about
leaving the diamonds in your charge. Please listen to me. I make no
unreasonable demands. If you wish to keep the stones now you
must first write me a letter stating the agreement between us. If it is
right I will give you the diamonds. If it is not according to my ideas
you must alter it."
"Do you think I mean to swindle you?"
"I have no views on that point. I am only telling you what my
conditions are."
Isaacstein sat back in his chair and regarded Philip fixedly and with
as much calmness as he could summon to his aid. A ray of sunshine
illumined a bald patch on the top of his head, and the boy found
himself idly speculating on developments in the Jew's future life. The
man, on his part, was seeking to read the boy's inscrutable
character, but the fixity of Philip's gaze at his denuded crown
disconcerted him again.
"What are you looking at?" he demanded, suddenly.
"I was wondering how you will look when you go to heaven, Mr.
Isaacstein," was the astounding reply.
For some reason it profoundly disturbed his hearer. He wobbled for a
little while, and finally seemed to make up his mind, though he
sighed perplexedly. The Jew was not a bad man. In business he was
noted for exceeding shrewdness combined with strict commercial
honesty. But the case that now presented itself contained all the
elements of temptation. No matter how clever this boy might be, he
was but a boy, and opportunities for cheating him must arrive. If not
he, Isaacstein, there were others. The boy possessed a large store,
possibly a very large store, of rough gems, and in dealing with them
his agents could rob him with impunity. Yet, in answer to an
unguarded question, this extraordinary youth admitted that
Isaacstein might merit eternal bliss. Such an eventuality had not
occurred to the Jew himself during unrecorded years. Now that it
was suggested to him it disturbed him.
"You imagine then that I may deal fairly with you?" he said at last.
"Oh, yes. Why should you rob me? You can earn more money than
you can ever need in this world by looking after my interests
properly. If only you will believe this statement it will save you much
future worry, I assure you."
"Were you in earnest when you said that you have an abundance of
stones like those in your hands?"
"So many, Mr. Isaacstein, that you will have some trouble in
disposing of them. I have diamonds as big, as big—let me see—as
big as an egg."
The wonder is that the Jew did not faint.
"My God!" he gurgled, "do you know what you are saying? Where
are they, boy? You will be robbed, murdered for their sake. Where
are they? Let me put them in some safe place. I will deal honestly by
you. I swear it, by all that I hold sacred. But you must have them
taken care of."
"They are quite safe; be certain of that. Reveal my secret I will not. I
have borne insult and imprisonment to preserve it, so it is not likely I
will yield now to your appeals."
Philip's face lit up with a strange light as this protest left his lips. The
meteor was his mother's bequest. She gave it to him, and she would
safeguard it. Had she failed hitherto? Was not all London ringing
with the news of his fortune, yet what man or woman had
discovered the whereabouts of his treasure? In his pocket he felt the
great iron key of No. 3, Johnson's Mews, and he was as certain now
that his hiding place was unknown as that his mother's spirit was
looking down on him from heaven, and directing his every
movement.
The Jew, in spite of his own great lack of composure, saw the
fleeting glimpse of spirituality in the boy's eyes. Puzzled and
disturbed though he was, he made another violent effort to pull his
shattered nerves into order.
"There is no need to talk all day," he said, doggedly. "Now I am
going to tell you something you don't know. If your boast is justified
—if you really own as many diamonds, and as good ones, as you say
you own—there must be a great deal of discretion exercised in
putting them on the market. Diamonds are valuable only because
they are rare. There is a limit to their possible purchasers. If the
diamond mines of the world were to pour all their resources
forthwith into the lap of the public, there would be such a slump that
prices would drop fifty, sixty, even eighty per cent. Do you follow
me?"
"Yes," nodded Philip.
A week earlier he would have said, "Yes, sir," but his soul was bitter
yet against Isaacstein.
"Very well. It may take me months, years, to realize your collection.
To do it properly I must have some idea of its magnitude. If there
are exceptionally large stones among it, they will be dealt with
separately. They may rival or eclipse the few historical diamonds of
the world, but their worth can only be measured by the readiness of
some fool to pay hundreds of thousands for them. See?"
"Yes," nodded Philip again. His sententiousness brought the man to
the point.
"Therefore you must take me into your confidence. What quantity of
stones do you possess, and what are their sizes? I must know."
Isaacstein, cooler now, pursed his lips and pressed his thumbs
together until they appeared to be in danger of dislocation. It was
his favorite attitude when engaged in a deal. It signified that he had
cornered his victim. Philip, appealed to in this strictly commercial
way, could not fail to see it was to his own interest to tell his chosen
expert the exact facts, and nothing but the facts.
The boy, singularly unflurried in tone and manner, hazarded an
inquiry.
"What amount of ordinary diamonds, in their money value I mean,
can you dispose of readily in the course of a year, Mr. Isaacstein?"
"Oh, two or three hundred thousand pounds' worth; it is a matter
largely dependent on the condition of trade generally. But that may
be regarded as a minimum."
"And the bigger stones, worth many thousands each?"
"It is impossible to say. Taking them in the lump, at values varying
from a thousand each to fancy figures, perhaps fifty thousand
pounds' worth."
"It would be safe to reckon on a quarter of a million a year, all told?"
"Quite safe."
"Then, Mr. Isaacstein, I will supply you with diamonds of that value
every year for many years."
The Jew relaxed the pressure on his thumbs. Indeed he passed a
tremulous hand across his forehead. He was beaten again, and he
knew it—worsted by a gutter snipe in a war of wits.
The contest had one excellent effect. It stopped all further efforts on
Isaacstein's part to wrest Philip's secret from him. Thenceforth he
asked for, and obtained, such diamonds as he needed, and
resolutely forbade himself the luxury of questioning or probing the
extent of his juvenile patron's resources.
But there was a long pause before he found his tongue again. His
voice had lost its aggressiveness when he said:
"In the police court I valued the diamonds you produced at fifty
thousand pounds. It does not necessarily follow that I am prepared
to give such a sum for them at this moment. I might do so as a
speculation, but I take it you do not want me to figure in that
capacity. It will be better for you, safer for me, if I become your
agent. I will take your stones to Amsterdam, have them cut
sufficiently to enable dealers to assess their true worth, and sell
them to the best advantage. My charge will be ten per cent, and I
pay all expenses. To-day I will give you fifty pounds. To-morrow I
will take you to a bank and place five thousand to your credit.
Meanwhile, I will give you a receipt for thirty stones, weighing, in
the rough, so many carats, and you, or anyone you may appoint,
can see the sale vouchers subsequently, when I will hand you the
balance after deducting £5,050 and my ten per cent. The total price
may exceed fifty thousand, or it may be less, but I do not think I will
be far out in my estimate. Are you agreeable?"
Some inner monitor told Philip that the Jew was talking on sound
business lines. There was a ring of sincerity in his voice. Apparently
he had thrust temptation aside, and was firmly resolved to be
content with his ten per cent.
And this might well be. Twenty-five thousand pounds a year earned
by a few journeys to the Continent—a few haggling interviews in the
Hatton Garden office! What a gold mine! Moreover, he would be the
head man in the trade. He was that now, in some respects; but
under the new conditions none could gainsay his place at the top.
Even the magnates of Kimberley would be staggered by this new
source of supply. What did it matter if the boy kept to his rags and
amazed the world, so long as the diamonds were forthcoming? It
was no silk-hatted gentleman who first stumbled across the
diamond-laden earth of South Africa. Isaacstein had made up his
mind. Fate had thrust this business into his lap. He would be a fool
to lose it out of mere curiosity.
"Yes," said Philip. "I agree to that."
"Samuel!" yelled Isaacstein.
"Coming, sir," was the answering shout, and a flurried clerk
appeared.
"Bring in the scales, Samuel."
The scales were brought, and a level space cleared for them on the
desk. Philip, of course, had never before seen an instrument so
delicately adjusted. A breath would serve to depress the balance.
The boy held forth his paper, and poured the contents into the tiny
brass tray of the scales. Samuel's mouth opened and his eyes
widened. It was his first sight of the diamonds.
"Four ounces, eight pennyweights, five grains—six hundred and
twenty-nine carats in thirty stones. Oh, good gracious me!"
murmured the clerk.
Isaacstein checked the record carefully.
"Right!" he said. "Put them in the safe."
Philip raised no protest this time. He knew that the Jew would keep
his word. Indeed, Isaacstein told Samuel to bring him fifty
sovereigns, and ere the man returned he began to write on a sheet
of letter paper:
"Received from——Here! what's your name?" he broke in.
"Philip."
"Philip what?"
"That will do to-day, thank you. The next time I call I will give you
my full name and address."
"Please yourself. I am no judge in this matter," and he wrote on:

"Received from Philip, a boy who refuses any other name, but
the same whom I saw in this office on the twentieth inst., and
 again at the Clerkenwell Police Court on that date, thirty
meteoric diamonds weighing in the gross six hundred and
twenty-nine carats. I hereby agree to dispose of the same, and
to render true account of sales to the said Philip or his agents.
My commission to be ten per cent.; the expenses payable by
me. I have to-day handed the said Philip fifty pounds in gold,
and undertake to place five thousand pounds to his credit to-
morrow with my bankers.
"Reuben Isaacstein."

After completing this acknowledgment he scribbled something else.

"There," he said, with a sigh of relief, "that is not a very formal
document, but it will suffice. You can get it stamped to-morrow at
Somerset House. Just sign this receipt for fifty pounds."
Philip took the two papers and read them carefully. Isaacstein's
handwriting was a scrawl, but legible enough. The boy reached for a
pen and signed his Christian name. He was on the point of adding
his surname in an unguarded moment, but he felt the Jew's eye on
him. So he simply wrote "Philip" across the stamp at the foot of the
receipt.
Isaacstein fully appreciated the incident, and knew that his own
eagerness defeated the chance, all the more powerful because it
was involuntary, of ascertaining the name of this marvelous youth.
Philip gathered up his gold, not without counting the coins. They felt
strangely heavy in his pocket, much heavier than the stones they
replaced. Yet they formed but a thousandth part of the value of
those flintlike pebbles. What a queer problem it was, this ratio of
worth between a few stones and the bright, minted sovereigns.
"What time shall I call to-morrow?" he asked, standing, cap in hand,
ready to take his departure.
"At eleven. But wait one moment. Have you no friends to look after
you? See what trouble you may get into. Why, the mere possession
of so much gold by a boy like you may——"
"I can take care of myself, Mr. Isaacstein. I will be here at eleven.
Good-afternoon."
 CHAPTER VIII.
The Transition.
It was four o'clock in the afternoon of a fine, but chilly March day
when Philip regained Holborn with fifty pounds making a lump in his
pocket, and Isaacstein's letter safely lodged in his coat. The mere
weight of the gold suggested an unpleasant possibility. His clothes
were so worn that the frail calico might give way and every golden
coin rattle forth to the pavement.
So with one of Mr. Abingdon's shillings he made his first purchase, a
capacious tobacco pouch with a snap mouth, for which he paid
ninepence. Then he adjourned to an aërated bread shop and
ordered some refreshments. While the waitress was bringing his cup
of tea and piece of cake he contrived to slip all the sovereigns but
one into the tobacco pouch.
He did this with his hand in the pocket itself, and more than once
there was a pleasant clink as the coins fell into their novel
receptacle.
A man sitting near caught the sound, and looked up suspiciously.
Philip, whose senses were very much on the alert to-day, realized
that his action was somewhat careless. Without even glancing at his
neighbor, he took out his remaining couple of shillings and the three
pennies, and affected to count them with a certain degree of
astonishment, as if some were missing. The ruse was satisfactory.
The man gave him no further heed, and soon quitted the restaurant.
Philip tendered the odd sovereign in payment of his bill. The girl
cashier seemed to be surprised that such a ragged youth should own
so large a sum.
"All silver, please," said Philip, when she began to count his change.
He would take no more risks if he could avoid them. Not a single
policeman in London would have failed to arrest him at that moment
were his store of gold revealed by any chance. Yet Philip was rich
honestly, and there were men driving away from the city at that hour
whose banking accounts were plethoric with stolen money. For their
carriages the policemen would stop the traffic. In neither instance
could the guardians of the peace be held blameworthy; such is the
importance of mere appearances.
The boy, during his short and terribly sharp tussle with London life,
had already grasped this essential fact, and with great skill and
method he set about the task of altering his own shabby exterior.
In a side street leading out of Gray's Inn Road, he found a
secondhand clothes shop. Here he purchased a worn, but decent,
blue serge suit for eight shillings six pence, a pair of boots for five
shillings, a cap for ninepence, a woolen shirt for two shillings, and a
linen collar for threepence.
He haggled sufficiently over the bargain to suit the needs of a scanty
purse.
"I've cut 'em dahn low enough," said the shopkeeper, mournfully.
"Things isn't wot they was in the ole clo' line, let me tell yer. Not but
what you do want a new rig-aht."
"Yes," said Philip. "I've got a job, and can't keep it unless I look
decent."
For the life of him he could not burlesque the Cockney accent, and
although he used the simplest phraseology, the man glanced at him
sharply.
"Where are yer workin'?" he said.
"At Isaacstein's in Hatton Garden." The words had not left his lips
ere he regretted them.
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