Understanding Business Statistics 1St Edition Freed Solutions Manual Full Chapter PDF
Understanding Business Statistics 1St Edition Freed Solutions Manual Full Chapter PDF
Understanding Business Statistics 1St Edition Freed Solutions Manual Full Chapter PDF
CHAPTER 5
Discrete Probability Distributions
5-2 Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
Level of Difficulty
(Moderate to Challenging)
1 2 3
Learning Objectives
x P(x)
20 8/50 = .16
30 18/50 = .36
40 12/50 = .24
50 6/50 = .12
60 4/50 = .08
70 2/50 = .04
50/50 = 1.00
0 (.3) 10(.5)
10 (.15)
20(.2) 20 (.06)
0 (.3)
10 (.15)
10(.5) 10(.5)
20 (.25)
20(.2)
30 (.10)
0 (.3)
20 (.06)
20(.2) 10(.5)
30 (.10)
20(.2)
40 (.04)
x P(x)
5-4 Chapter 5
0 .09
10 .30 (= .15 + .15)
20 .37 (= .06 + .25 + .06)
30 .20 (= .10 + .10)
40 .04
1.00
6.
a) Possible values for the random variable: x = 0, 1, 2, 3 or 4 pocket calls.
b) We can look at the 4 911 calls and identify the various sets of possible outcomes:
x=1 .4 .6 .6 .6 .0864
.6 .4 .6 .6 .0864
.6 .6 .4 .6 .0864
.6 .6 .6 .4 .0864
P(x = 1) = .3456
x=2 .6 .6 .4 .4 .0576
.6 .4 .6 .4 .0576
.6 .4 .4 .6 .0576
.4 .6 .6 .4 .0576
.4 .6 .4 .6 .0576
.4 .4 .6 .6 .0576
P(x = 2) = .3456
x=3 .4 .4 .4 .6 .0384
.4 .4 .6 .4 .0384
.4 .6 .4 .4 .0384
.6 .4 .4 .4 .0384
P(x = 3) = .1536
x P(x)
5-5 Chapter 5
0 .1296
1 .3456
2 .3456
3 .1536
4 .0256
1.0000
8. a) x P(x)
0 .20
1 .40
2 .30 P(x)
3 .10
.50
1.00
0 1 2 3 x
10. P(x)
a) x P(x)
0 .93
1 .05
2 .02
1.00 .50
0 1 2 x
= .1219
= .1219
R = Red B = Blue
R (.7)
R (.7) .147
B (.3)
B (.3) .063
R (.7)
B (.3) .063
B (.3)
.027
x P(x)
0 .027
1 .189
2 .441
3 .343
1.00
P(x)
.25
0 1 2 3 x
5-7 Chapter 5
b) Without replacement:
P(x)
.50
0 1 2 3 x
= .63 ≈ .7937
= .49 = .70
14. a)
Number of times test
is taken
(x) P(x)
1 .6800
2 (.32)(.22) = .0704
3 (.32)(.78)(.22) = .0549
4 (.32)(.78)(.78)(.22) = .0428
5 (.32)(.78)(.78)(.78)(.22) = .0334
6 (.32)(.78)(.78)(.78)(.78)(.22) = .0261
7 (.32)(.78)(.78)(.78)(.78)(.78)(1.0) = .0924
total = 1.000
b)
0.8
0.7
0.6
probability p(x)
0.5
0.4
0.3
0.2
0.1
0
1 2 3 4 5 6 7
number of times (x)
16. n = 4 p = .42
4!
a) P(x = 4) = (.42)4(1–.42)(4–4) = (1)(.0311) = .03112
(4 - 4)!4!
4!
b) P(x = 2) = (.42)2(1–.42)(4–2) = (6)(.0593) = .35605
(4 - 2)!2!
18. a) n = 5 p = .25
5!
P(x = 3) = (.25)3(1–.25)(5–3) = (10)(.015625) ( .5625) = .0879
(5 - 3)!3!
c) n = 5 p = .6
5!
P(x = 0) = (.6)0(1–.6)(5–0) = (1)(1.0) ( .01024) = .0102
(5 - 0)!0!
5!
P(x = 1) = (.6)1(1–.6)(5–1) = (5)(.6) ( .0256) = .0768
(5 -1)!1!
5!
P(x = 2) = (.6)2(1–.6)(5–2) = (10)(.36) ( .064) = .2304
(5 - 2)!2!
d) n = 5 p = .6
5!
P(x = 5) = (.6)5(1–.6)(5–5) = (1)(.0778) (1) = .0778
(5 − 5)!5!
5!
20. a) n = 5, p = .02 P(x = 1) = (.02)1(1–.02)(5–1) = .0922
(5 -1)!1!
5!
b) n = 5, p = .05 P(x = 2) = (.05)2(1–.05)(5–2) = .0214
(5 - 2)!2!
5-10 Chapter 5
5!
c) n = 5, p = .5 P( x = 5) = . (.5)5(1–.5)(5–5) = .0313
(5 - 5)!5!
5!
d) n = 5, p = .08 P(x = 1) = (.08)1(1–.08)(5–1) = .2866
(5 -1)!1!
24. n = 50 p = .6
26. n = 200
a) p = .08 (rounded)
E(x) = (200)(.08) = 16 hands
b) p = .001 (rounded)
E(x) = (200)(.001) = .2 hands
c) p = .50 (rounded)
E(x) = (200)(.50) = 100 hands
34. a) n = 25, p = .1 P(x > 5) = .0646 + .0239 + .0072 + .0018 + .0004 + .0001
= .098
n = 25, p = .3 P(x > 5) = .1030 + .1472 + .1712 + .1651 + .1336 + .0916
+ .0536 + .0268 + .0115 + .0042 + .0004 + .0001
= .9083
36. a) n = 3, p = .3
P(x)
.25
0 1 2 3 x
b) n = 9, p = .3
P(x)
.25
0 1 2 3 4 5 6 x
5-12 Chapter 5
38. a) n = 5 P(x)
p = .75
.25
0 1 2 3 4 5 x
b) n=9
p = .55
.25
0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 x
25
40. a) For = 2, P(x = 5) = = .0361
2.718 2 5!
62
b) For = 6, P(x = 2) = = .0446
2.718 6 2!
3 .5 0
c) For = 3.5, P(x = 0) = = .0302
2.718 3.5 0!
22 23 24
d) For = 2, P(2 < x < 4) = + +
2.718 2 2! 2.718 2 3! 2.718 2 4!
= .27067 + .18045 +.09022 = .5413
5-13 Chapter 5
50. λ = .2
P(x)
5-14 Chapter 5
.5
0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 x
52. λ = 10
P(x)
.15
x
0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21
As the size of increases, the shape of the distrubution becomes more and more
symmetric.
E(x) = 0(.4966)
1(.3476)
2(.1217)
3(.0284)
4(.0050)
5(.0007)
6(.0001)
= .7
5-15 Chapter 5
c) E(x) is equal to .
d) 2 = (0–.7)2(.4966)
(1–.7)2(.3476)
(2–.7)2(.1217)
(3–.7)2(.0284)
(4–.7)2(.0050)
(5–.7)2(.0007)
(6–.7)2(.0001)
= .7
60. C1 = person gets coat 1 C2 = person gets coat 2 C3 = person gets coat 3
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“Spare no money, no time, no labor,” he said, “but let the criminal
be found. Sir Ronald is too ill, too overwhelmed, to give any orders at
present; but you know what should be done. Do it promptly.”
And Captain Johnstone had at once taken every necessary step.
There was something ghastly in the pretty town of Leeholme, for
there on the walls was the placard, worded:
“MURDER!
“Two hundred pounds will be given to any one bringing
certain information as to a murder committed on Tuesday
morning, June 19th, in the Holme Woods. Apply to
Captain Johnstone, Police Station, Leeholme.”
Gaping rustics read it, and while they felt heartily sorry for the
unhappy lady they longed to know something about it for the sake of
the reward.
But no one called on Captain Johnstone—no one had a word
either of certainty or surmise. The police officers, headed by
intelligent men, made diligent search in the neighborhood of the
pool; but nothing was found. There was no mark of any struggle; the
soft, thick grass gave no sign of heavy footsteps. No weapon could
be found, no trace of blood-stained fingers. It was all a mystery dark
as night, without one gleam of light.
The pool had always been a favorite place with the hapless lady;
and, knowing that, Sir Ronald had ordered a pretty, quaint golden
chair to be placed there for her; and on the very morning when the
event happened Lady Clarice Alden had taken her book and had
gone to the fatal spot to enjoy the beauty of the morning, the
brightness of the sun and the odor of the flowers. The book she had
been reading lay on the ground, where it had evidently fallen from
her hands. But there was no sign of anything wrong; the bluebells
had not even been trampled under foot.
After twenty-four hours’ search the police relinquished the matter.
Captain Johnstone instituted vigorous inquiries as to all the beggars
and tramps who had been in the neighborhood—nothing suspicious
came to light. One man, a traveling hawker, a gaunt, fierce-looking
man, with a forbidding face, had been passing through Holme
Woods, and the police tracked him; but when he was examined he
was so evidently unconscious and ignorant of the whole matter it
would have been folly to detain him.
In the stately mansion of Aldenmere a coroner’s inquest had
been held. Mrs. Glynn declared that it was enough to make the
family portraits turn on the wall—enough to bring the dead to life.
Such a desecration as that had never occurred before. But the
coroner was very grave. Such a murder, he said, was a terrible thing;
the youth, beauty and position of the lady made it doubly horrible. He
showed the jury how intentional the murder must have been—it was
no deed done in hot haste. Whoever had crept with stealthy steps to
the lady’s side, whoever had placed his hand underneath the white
lace mantle which she wore, and with desperate, steady aim stabbed
her to the heart, had done it purposely and had meditated over it.
The jury saw that the white lace mantle must either have been raised
or a hand stealthily crept beneath it, for the cut that pierced the
bodice of the dress was not in the mantle.
He saw the red puncture on the white skin. One of the jury was a
man who had traveled far and wide.
“It was with no English weapon this was done,” he said. “I
remember a case very similar when I was staying in Sicily; a man
there was killed, and there was no other wound on his body save a
small red circle like this; afterward I saw the very weapon that he had
been slain with.”
“What was it like?” asked the coroner eagerly.
“A long, thin, very sharp instrument, a species of Sicilian dagger. I
heard that years ago ladies used to wear them suspended from the
waist as a kind of ornament. I should not like to be too certain, but it
seems to me this wound has been caused by the same kind of
weapon.”
By the coroner’s advice the suggestion was not made public.
The verdict returned was one the public had anticipated: “Willful
murder against some person or persons unknown.”
Then the inquest was over, and nothing remained but to bury
Lady Clarice Alden. Dr. Mayne, however, had not come to the end of
his resources yet.
“The local police have failed,” he said to Sir Ronald; “we will send
to Scotland Yard at once.”
And Sir Ronald bade him do whatever in the interests of justice
he considered best.
In answer to his application came Sergeant Hewson, who was
generally considered the shrewdest and cleverest man in England.
“If Sergeant Hewson gives a thing up, no one else can succeed,”
was a remark of general use in the profession. He seemed to have
an instinctive method of finding out that which completely baffled
others.
“The mystery will soon be solved now,” said Dr. Mayne;
“Sergeant Hewson will not be long in suspense.”
The sergeant made his home at Aldenmere; he wished to be
always on the spot.
“The murder must have been done either by some one in the
house or some one out of it,” he said; “let us try the inside first.”
So he watched and waited; he talked to the servants, who
considered him “a most affable gent;” he listened to them; he
examined everything belonging to them—in vain.
Lady Clarice Alden had been beloved and admired by her
servants.
“She was very high, poor thing!—high and proud, but as
generous and kind a lady as ever lived. So beautiful, too, with a
queer sort of way with her! She never spoke an unkind word to any
of us in her life.”
He heard nothing but praises of her. Decidedly, in all that large
household Lady Clarice had no enemy. He inquired all about her
friends, and he left no stone unturned; but, for once in his life,
Sergeant Hewson was baffled, and the fact did not please him.
CHAPTER IV.
KENELM EYRLE.
It was the night before the funeral, and Sir Ronald sat in his study
alone. His servants spoke of him in lowered voices, for since the
terrible day of the murder the master of Aldenmere had hardly tasted
food. More than once he had rung the bell, and, when it was
answered, with white lips and stone-cold face, he had asked for a
tumbler of brandy.
It was past ten o’clock now, and the silent gloom seemed to
gather in intensity, when suddenly there came a fierce ring at the hall
door, so fierce, so imperative, so vehement that one and all the
frightened servants sprang up, and the old housekeeper, with folded
hands, prayed, “Lord have mercy on us!”
Two of the men went, wondering who it was, and what was
wanted.
“Not a very decent way to ring, with one lying dead in the house,”
said one to the other; but, even before they reached the hall door, it
was repeated more imperatively than before.
They opened it quickly. There stood a gentleman who had
evidently ridden hard, for his horse was covered with foam; he had
dismounted in order to ring.
“Is this horrible, accursed story true?” he asked, in a loud, ringing
voice. “Is Lady Alden dead?”
“It is quite true, sir,” replied one of the men, quick to recognize the
true aristocrat.
“Where is Sir Ronald?” he asked, quickly.
“He cannot see any one.”
“Nonsense!” interrupted the stranger, “he must see me; I insist
upon seeing him. Take my card and tell him I am waiting. You send a
groom to attend to my horse; I have ridden hard.”
Both obeyed him, and the gentleman sat down in the entrance
hall while the card was taken to Sir Ronald. The servant rapped
many times, but no answer came; at length he opened the door.
There sat Sir Ronald, just as he had done the night before—his head
bent, his eyes closed, his face bearing most terrible marks of
suffering.
The man went up to him gently.
“Sir Ronald,” he asked, “will you pardon me? The gentleman who
brought this card insists upon seeing you, and will not leave the
house until he has done so. I would not have intruded, Sir Ronald,
but we thought perhaps it might be important.”
Sir Ronald took the card and looked at the name. As he did so a
red flush covered his pale face, and his lips trembled.
“I will see him,” he said, in a faint, hoarse voice.
“May I bring you some wine or brandy, Sir Ronald?” asked the
man.
“No, nothing. Ask Mr. Eyrle to come here.”
He stood quite still until the stranger entered the room; then he
raised his haggard face, and the two men looked at each other.
“You have suffered,” said Kenelm Eyrle; “I can see that. I never
thought to meet you thus, Sir Ronald.”
“No,” said the faint voice.
“We both loved her. You won her, and she sent me away. But, by
heaven! if she had been mine, I would have taken better care of her
than you have done.”
“I did not fail in care or kindness,” was the meek reply.
“Perhaps I am harsh,” he said, more gently. “You look very ill, Sir
Ronald; forgive me if I am abrupt; my heart is broken with this terrible
story.”
“Do you think it is less terrible for me?” said Sir Ronald, with a
sick shudder. “Do you understand how awful even the word murder
is?”
“Yes; it is because I understand so well that I am here. Ronald,”
he added, “there has been ill feeling between us since you won the
prize I would have died for. We were like brothers when we were
boys; even now, if you were prosperous and happy, as I have seen
you in my dreams, I would shun, avoid and hate you, if I could.”
His voice grew sweet and musical with the deep feelings stirred
in his heart.
“Now that you are in trouble that few men know; now that the
bitterest blow the hand of fate can give has fallen on you, let me be
your true friend, comrade and brother again.”
He held out his hand and clasped the cold, unyielding one of his
friend.
“I will help you as far as one man can help another, Ronald. We
will bury the old feud and forget everything except that we have a
wrong to avenge, a crime to punish, a murderer to bring to justice!”
“You are very good to me, Kenelm,” said the broken voice; “you
see that I have hardly any strength or energy.”
“I have plenty,” said Kenelm Eyrle, “and it shall be used for one
purpose. Ronald, will you let me see her? She is to be buried to-
morrow—the fairest face the sun ever shone on will be taken away
forever. Let me see her; do not refuse me. For the memory of the
boy’s love so strong between us once—for the memory of the man’s
love and the man’s sorrow that has laid my life bare and waste, let
me see her, Ronald?”
“I will go with you,” said Sir Ronald Alden; and, for the first time
since the tragedy in its full horror had been known to him, Sir Ronald
left the library and went to the room where his dead wife lay.
CHAPTER V.
WHICH LOVED HER BEST?