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C Cookbook How to write great code with the latest C
releases 1st Edition Wayne Murphy Digital Instant
Download
Author(s): Wayne Murphy
ISBN(s): 9789355515377, 9355515375
Edition: 1st
File Details: PDF, 16.09 MB
Year: 2024
Language: english
C++
Cookbook
Wayne Murphy
www.bpbonline.com
First Edition 2024
ISBN: 978-93-55515-377
The information contained in this book is true to correct and the best of
author’s and publisher’s knowledge. The author has made every effort to
ensure the accuracy of these publications, but publisher cannot be held
responsible for any loss or damage arising from any information in this
book.
and
C++ Cookbook walks you through all the recent new features. In a
cookbook-type style that talks about each new class or function, it shows
you in simple terms how to use it. Authored by a software professional,
with over 3 decades of experience, their passion for coding shows in the
book. This book takes the reader on a tour of what they will need to know
to be up to date with the latest C++ abilities.
The book outlines new features, with lots of code examples. They can use
it as a reference guide, or progress through each how-to recipe to
maximize their knowledge. Sometimes it will give suggestions on the best
approach, but mainly wants to inform you of options, and lets you take the
right path for your individual situation. The book should help those that
have not kept up to date with recent C++ releases. Whether your company
was sticking to an older standard, or you are starting with a new product.
There are a lot of great new features available, and this book will help you
working with the latest and greatest functionality. You can walk through
all the chapters with their code examples, or use it as a quick-reference
guide for something specific.
After reading it, you will be up to date and will make you and your project
work better.
Chapter 4: Using the New Iterator Concepts – Our next step into concepts
looks at all of the concepts defined for iterators, and also talks about the
progression of functionality with types of iterators. We also touch on some
other concepts relating to moving or copying values.
Chapter 10: Organizing Your Code with Modules – The chapter covers a
great new addition to the language. Modules will help you organize your
code easier. We get into the details of its components and go through how
to using other modules, and learn how to write our own code.
Chapter 13: Range Algorithms: Sort, Search and More – The next leg of
our journey talks about ranges deals with searching and sorting. We can
perform functions on a range to get a value, or even a new range by doing
a permutation.
Chapter 14: Range Algorithms: Memory and Modification Functions – We
focus on memory; moving values around, and doing transformations.
Chapter 15: Views and Range Adaptors – The chapter talks about the
many functions that exist so we can get values in a view by calling a range
with an adaptor.
Chapter 16: Range Factories and Utilities – We conclude our talk about
ranges by showing some exiting new functionality. We can create an
infinite view of values, whether by using a simple function or a generator.
There is code showing how to even format your range for output.
Chapter 17: New Features for Containers – The chapter covers a lot of
ground, dealing with new container types, and simple new functions.
Chapter 19: Making Your Code Cleaner – The chapter covers many recent
features for lambdas, new suffixes, optional and expected arguments, plus
new preprocessor directives for cleaner code.
Chapter 20: Making Your Code Safer – The chapter touches on some
important new features to make code less fragile.
Chapter 21: Making Your Code Faster and Easier to Debug – We conclude
by talking about ways to make your code run faster; including some new
functions, and new attributes. We also talk about new types that could help
you debug your code.
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Table of Contents
Introduction
Structure
Objectives
Suggestion
Suggestion
Conclusion
Points to remember
References
Introduction
Structure
Objectives
Recipe 2.1: same_as
Suggestion
Suggestion
Conclusion
Points to remember
References
Introduction
Structure
Objectives
Suggestion
Suggestion
Conclusion
Points to remember
References
Introduction
Structure
Objectives
Conclusion
Points to remember
References
Introduction
Structure
Objectives
Suggestion
Conclusion
Points to remember
References
Introduction
Structure
Objectives
Suggestion
Conclusion
Points to remember
References
Introduction
Structure
Objectives
Conclusion
Points to remember
References
8. Concurrent Processing
Introduction
Structure
Objectives
Conclusion
Points to remember
References
9. Coroutines
Introduction
Structure
Objectives
Conclusion
Points to remember
References
Introduction
Structure
Objectives
Conclusion
Points to remember
References
Structure
Objectives
Conclusion
Points to remember
References
Introduction
Structure
Objectives
Conclusion
Points to remember
References
13. Range Algorithms: Sort, Search and More
Introduction
Structure
Objectives
Conclusion
Points to remember
References
Introduction
Structure
Objectives
Conclusion
Points to remember
References
Introduction
Structure
Objectives
Conclusion
Points to remember
References
16. Range Factories and Utilities
Introduction
Structure
Objectives
Conclusion
Points to remember
References
Structure
Objectives
Conclusion
Points to remember
References
Introduction
Structure
Objectives
Conclusion
Points to remember
References
Introduction
Structure
Objectives
Recipe 19.1: Familiar template syntax Lambdas
Title: Nick Carter Stories No. 150, July 24, 1915: The House of Fear;
or, Nick Carter's Counterstroke
Language: English
PARTNERS IN CRIME.
Nick Carter was not disturbed in the least degree by the threats of Gaston
Goulard. He had been threatened too frequently by crooks to pay any
attention to their sinister predictions.
They had no weight with the detective, therefore, those of this whilom
merchant who had wrecked the big department store in which he had been a
partner, and who then had gone deeper into the criminal mire, mingling with
crooks and gangsters, resulting in a murder for which he now was wanted by
the police, whom he had eluded less than a month before in the manner
described.
Aside from his surprise at beholding Goulard alive, the entire incident
would have had no great weight with Nick Carter, in fact, except for one
reason—the extraordinary episodes that immediately followed.
These alone, with their far-reaching results and because they exhibited
from the first the remarkable discernment and versatility of the celebrated
detective, made this night a noteworthy one in the record of his professional
work.
Finding that immediate escape from under the stone steps was
impossible, and that he could not at once pursue Goulard, Nick proceeded
more deliberately to seek means to liberate himself. He knew that he could
not have been overheard by any person in the house, having spoken only in
whispers, while hardly a sound had been made that would have been audible
ten feet away.
"The rascal must have been watching me, as he said, and contrived to
intercept me in front of this house, probably having learned that this grille
door was open, also that it could be quickly and securely locked. Securely
locked, by Jove, is right!"
Nick had taken out his electric searchlight and was inspecting the grille
door. He found that it had a strong Yale lock, to pick which was out of the
question. It looked, in fact, as if it would be utterly impossible to open the
door without a key.
"By gracious, I don’t half like this," thought Nick, pausing to consider the
situation. "There is no getting out unaided by the way I entered. I can bang
on this other door, of course, and raise some one in the house, who could
come down and liberate me. That would necessitate a truthful explanation,
however, and the story might leak out.
"It would be embarrassing, at least, to read in all of the newspapers that
the famous New York detective was caught and cornered in such a hole as
this by a midnight marauder. The sensational journals would feature it with
red letters, for fair, and make the most of it. I don’t think I could stand for
that.
"Instead of raising any one, therefore, I’ll try to quietly open this other
door, which evidently leads into a basement hall. If I can enter unheard, I
then can steal up to the main hall and out through the front door. None will
then be the wiser, as far as I am concerned, and Goulard will not be fool
enough to expose me. He will foresee, of course, that I shall keep my mouth
closed. Let the crafty rascal alone to feel sure of that."
Having decided that to be the easiest way out of his dilemma, Nick turned
his attention to the door leading to the basement hall. He found it had only
an ordinary lock, and that the key had been removed.
"Well, well, this will be soft walking," he said to himself. "I can open it
with a picklock in two shakes of a lamb’s tail. In a minute more, that done, I
can slip out of the house unheard."
Fishing out a ring of keys on which he had the practical little implement
mentioned, Nick quietly inserted it into the lock, and a moment later he
noiselessly shot the bolt and opened the door.
Then began the series of sensational episodes that made his work of that
night so noteworthy.
Nick stepped into the basement hall, then quietly closed the door, locking
it with a key found hanging on a nail near the casing, and which he
discovered by means of his searchlight.
He then paused and listened vainly for any sound from the floors above.
Obviously, no one in the house had yet been disturbed.
"The way is open, all right, so here goes," he said to himself, after a
moment.
A flash from his searchlight revealed the stairway leading to the main
hall.
Nick tiptoed toward it and began the ascent.
The top of the stairway ended near the middle of the main hall, and under
the rise of stairs leading up to the next floor.
Nick arrived at the top stair, holding his breath, treading as if on eggs, and
feeling his way by means of the wall on one side and the baluster rail on the
other.
Despite his exceeding care, however, the top stair creaked slightly under
his weight.
The noise, though hardly perceptible under ordinary conditions, fell
audibly on the surrounding stillness.
It was instantly followed by another, hardly more perceptible, but
sufficient to make the detective doubly alert.
The sound came from a room across the hall, the door of which was open.
Nick waited, lest the stair might creak again if he stirred. Bending nearer
the baluster rail, nevertheless, he could see through the open door of the
opposite room.
It was the library of the handsomely furnished house.
With the exception of one part of the room, all was invisible, shrouded in
inky darkness.
The exception was a circle of light shed upon an open desk—faintly
revealing a figure crouching in front of it.
It appeared to be that of a man engaged in robbing the desk, or quietly
forcing the interior drawers in search of something.
Nick waited and watched.
"By Jove, here’s a curious coincidence," he said to himself. "Have I
stolen in here just in time to catch a crook? Apparently, however, I’m in his
class. He may, on the other hand, be some one who lives in the house and
who has some motive for stealthily searching that desk. No, by gracious,
that’s not probable. He certainly is a crook."
The figure crouching at the desk had turned slightly and gazed toward the
hall, as if under the impulse of sudden uneasiness, or that subtle sense which
at times impresses one of the presence of another.
Nick then saw that the lower part of the man’s face was covered with a
black cloth—convincing him that he was a thief from outside, rather than a
resident of the house.
He turned, after listening for a moment, and resumed his knavish work.
Nick Carter’s first impulse was to arrest the thief then and there—but he
did not do so.
Another and better move, in view of the greater possibilities it presented,
quickly occurred to him.
"By Jove, this may be the opportunity of a lifetime," he said to himself.
"It’s odds that the rascal is not alone, that he has one confederate, at least,
who may be watching outside, probably in the rear of the house. I can fool
this scamp and gather in both of them, I think, or even round up a bigger
gang with which they may be identified. That surely would discount taking
in only this fellow. I’m blessed if I don’t try it."
Nick had recalled his sinister make-up, also that he had several changes
of disguise in his pocket. He deftly adjusted one over his already hangdog
type of countenance, then glided quickly under the rise of stairs mentioned,
crouching low against the baseboard in one corner.
The top of the basement stairs creaked again when he left them, precisely
as he had anticipated.
The effect, moreover, was exactly what he was expecting.
The figure at the library desk started up as if electrified by the faint
sound.
The circle of light from the flash lamp vanished instantly, leaving the
room and hall in impenetrable gloom.
"He heard it," thought Nick, holding his breath. "He’s waiting and
listening. He fears that some one is here, but he is not sure."
The waiting detective was right. He presently could hear the stealthy,
catlike tread of the crook approaching the near door. It ceased after a
moment, and Nick knew that the rascal then had reached the threshold and
again was listening intently.
Nearly a minute passed, one minute of absolute silence and inky
darkness.
Then a swift beam of light shot through the hall—but not under the stairs.
It was gone as quickly as it came, only to be repeated a moment later,
leaping swiftly the entire length of the broad hall.
The crook saw no one, and he then stepped noiselessly toward the main
stairway, where he paused once more to listen.
It was the move the detective had expected, and for which he was
waiting. Rising noiselessly, Nick quickly glided nearer, then suddenly
clasped the motionless black figure in his arms.
A thrill of amazement went through him from head to foot.
The form he had clasped, confining both arms and preventing the use of a
weapon—was that of a woman.
Amazement, however, did not cause Nick Carter to lose his head. He held
fast to the supple, writhing figure of the unknown female, who wriggled
vainly to free herself and reach for her revolver, while the detective quickly
whispered, in tones well calculated to dispel her fears:
"Whist! Keep quiet! I wa’n’t wise to your being a skirt. What’s your
game here?"
Nick’s quietude also was assuring. The woman ceased struggling, but
turned sufficiently to gaze at his face, as well as it could be seen in the faint
light that came through the pebbled-glass panes of the front door.
Nick now could see the sharp glint of her eyes and the outline of her brow
and cheeks above the bandage of black cloth that covered her mouth and
chin.
"What’s your own game?" she questioned quickly, under her breath.
"What sent you here?"
"I’m on the lift and——”
"You’re not a dick?"
"Dick be hanged! I saw the iron door under the front steps was open, so I
picked the lock of the other to see what I could nail," Nick explained. "I
piped you in yonder at the desk when I crept up the stairs. But I did not
dream you was a skirt."
"Let me go, will you?"
"Sure—if you’ll keep your yap closed."
"Trust me for that."
"I’m not here to be nailed by a bull," Nick added.
"You can gamble that I’m not," muttered the woman. "Say, step in there
with me. We ought to know each other better."
"That hits me all right—but walk on your toes."
Nick had released her, when requested, but the woman clung to him for a
second, as if fain to express her relief with a momentary display of affection.
Together they stole into the library, and she noiselessly closed the door.
"You’re not a dick, then," she remarked, in whispers. "Say, that’s some
load off my mind. I thought sure I was a goner."
"Dick nothing!" Nick muttered derisively. "Have a peek. Do I look like a
dick?"
He fished out his searchlight while speaking, throwing the beam upon
himself. He then removed the disguise he had put on a few moments before,
and displayed the sinister, make-up face beneath it.
It was a ruse that would have deceived the most suspicious of mortals.
None would have supposed for a moment that he was there in double
disguise—this man who now was pretending to be no less a crook than the
woman herself.
She laughed softly and clasped his arm with both hands.
"Say, you’re all right, pal," she whispered. "Flash it on me. I’ll go as far
as you have gone, since you sure seem on the level. Have a look at my mug."
She drew down the black cloth from her face, on which Nick flashed the
beam of light, giving him still another surprise.
"Great guns!" he mentally exclaimed. "Sadie Badger, the queen of the old
Badger gang."
Nick knew both her and the gang, all of whom had figured in the recent
murder case against Gaston Goulard, and all of whom had been sentenced to
prison, with the exception of Goulard himself, who was supposed to have
been drowned, and this one woman against whom sufficient evidence to
connect her with the murder, or show complicity after the crime, could not
be found. She had been liberated, therefore, after the trial and conviction of
the rest of the notorious gang, and she had not since been seen in her
customary haunts.
Nick Carter’s surprise was the greater for that reason, when he now
beheld her in the very act of robbing the house outside of which he had so
unexpectedly encountered Goulard. That they were not confederates in this
robbery was obvious to him, however, for he at once reasoned that Goulard
would not have put the woman in danger of arrest, if he had known that she
was in the house.
Nick now saw, too, that Sadie Badger was clad in a tight-fitting black
jersey, under a loose dark coat, and that she wore knickerbocker trousers,
black stockings, and rubber-soled shoes, all combining to give her the
appearance of a youth under twenty, who might have walked the streets at
almost any hour of the day or night without a challenge from the police.
Nick was quick to appreciate all that this signified, and to take advantage
of the situation he had in part framed up, though his sinister face reflected
none of his true sentiments and designs.
"You’re all right, kid, if looks count for anything," he said quietly. "We
meet by chance, a dead queer chance, but there might be something in it for
both. What’s your name?"
"What’s yours?" questioned Sadie circumspectly.
"Bosey Magee," Nick promptly informed her.
"Bosey?"
"That’s short for Ambrose," whispered Nick. "That’s my moniker. I hang
out in Boston most of the time, but I blew in here last night and went broke
in the stuss joints."
"I get you, pal."
"I held up a bloke an hour back and lifted a small wad. It was not enough,
when I saw that the front-basement door of this crib was easy to get at. You
can find out all about me from Jack Gleason, who runs the Orient House in
Richmond Street, where I hail from," Nick added. "He’ll tell you Bosey
Magee wouldn’t crab a game or squeal on a pal. That’s me, kid."
"And it listens good to me, all right," said Sadie, in approving whispers.
"I’ll meet you on even ground. My name is Sadie Badger, and I’m out for
the coin as you see me, or in any old way I can get it."
"That’s the right sort, Sadie, and you’re in my class. But you’re not
cracking this crib alone, are you?" questioned Nick.
"That’s what, Bosey."
"Where are your pals?"
"I’m leary of pals just now," said Sadie. "I was in with a good bunch and
in right, but an infernal dick got them a month back and sent them up the
river."
"Tough luck," said Nick.
"I ducked the same dose by the skin of my teeth," added Sadie. "I have
got no pals I would bank on now, unless——”
"Unless what?"
"I say, Bosey!" The woman’s low whispers took on a more sibilant
eagerness. "Since you’re here after plunder, and fate has chucked us
together, let’s run in double harness on this job. What d’ye say? Are you
game? Will you be my partner in crime?"
Nick Carter did not hesitate for the hundredth part of a second. He saw
more to be gained than by arresting Sadie Badger then and there. He grasped
her extended hand, replying quickly:
"Will a duck swim? I’d be a fool, Sadie, if I wouldn’t take a chance with
you. Partners in crime—that’s what?"
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