FileMover, Beagle Bros for the PC

Pretty much everybody in the Apple II community is aware of Beagle Bros, the prolific and playful early software company with a sense of humor and a hacker spirit. But it’s probably not nearly as well known that they actually did test the waters with an IBM PC title as well. FileMover was that title. I got ahold of a copy of it, kind of crushed but still shrink-wrapped.

Filemover box wrapped Page 1

This thing is rare. To find one still wrapped is even more rare, but it doesn’t do a lot of good wrapped. So, I opened it up, and here is what I found. First, the box panels:

Filemover box Page 1 Filemover box Page 4
Filemover box Page 2 Filemover box Page 3

Inside the box was the disk, along with a little insert with instructions (though still Apple-centric) on what to do if the disk goes bad, a sticker, the manual, and a wall poster. With Apple titles, the wall poster was generally some useful programming information, likes “Peeks & Pokes” or 6502 opcodes. In the FileMover package, the wall poster has some Pascal programming information on one side, and the disk treatment warning graphics on the other.

Filemover disk Page 1 Filemover disk Page 2
Filemover disk problems Page 1 Filemover disk problems Page 2
Filemover sticker Page 1 Filemover sticker Page 2
Turbo pascal poster Page 1 Turbo pascal poster Page 2
Filemover manual  

The program itself is a relatively straightforward file handling utility, allowing you to delete files, rename them, move them around, etc.

Filemover splash
Filemover directory

The disk includes the Pascal source code for the program, as well as a couple of other things. There’s actually an “Easter Egg” of a sort as well. There’s a hidden file called DONTREAD.ME, which you can see in the file listing above, but which does not appear in a regular DIR of the disk. If you TYPE DONTREAD.ME, you get a secret message. I’m going to reveal it here.

Filemover dontread me

Anyway, although the program itself is ok, it’s probably mostly interesting due to the fact that—as far as I know, at least—it is the only program Beagle Bros ever released for the PC. And the Pascal source code is probably interesting to look through as well. Someday I might do that.

Here are links to all the stuff. When I tried to run this under FreeDOS, it didn’t work, but it did work under DOS 3.3 at least. I captured the disk image using a Kryoflux, although the image is not protected. At the moment, the disk image is a bit larger than it needs to be I think, but it did work under emulation.

Peelings II

I’d always been fairly aware of the Peelings II magazine back during the early 1980s when the Apple II was going strong, because they advertised fairly aggressively in things that I did read, but for some reason I’d never really read any of the issues. Probably this is because the magazine wasn’t sold on any newsstands I had easy access to, and I was never motivated to subscribe. Looking at it now, though, it’s pretty interesting. It’s essentially a magazine of reviews, and as such, it provides quite a bit of useful information for the modern-day retrocomputing enthusiast.

Peelings ii v4n1 7

I looked around a bit, but I couldn’t find any issues scanned online. I have exactly seven issues of the magazine, the first 7 issues of 1983. The issues don’t have dates on them (apart from “1983”), but it appears that Peelings II came out 9 times per year.

So, I scanned the ones I have. And they are linked below. They’re scanned at 600dpi, so the files are fairly large.

Peelings ii v4n1 Peelings ii v4n2
Peelings ii v4n3 Peelings ii v4n4
Peelings ii v4n5 Peelings ii v4n6
Peelings ii v4n7  

Saint Softalk dot Mac

Softalk was one of the most highly regarded computer magazines focused on the Apple II series of computers, running from September 1980 until August 1984. They’ve been mentioned here before. In the later years, however, the publishers branched out to a couple of other platforms. There was a second magazine called Softalk for the IBM PC, which was—well—Softalk, for the IBM PC. But there was also a Softalk magazine devoted to the Mac, upon its release. This was ST.Mac, which is etymologically “Softalk” with a filetype/extension “.Mac”, although it also seems to have gone by “Saint Mac” as well.


ST.Mac launched just after the original Macintosh did, its first issue covered February 1984. Monthly issues followed, although unfortunately not for long—the whole Softalk enterprise pretty much stopped after August 1984, including both the original Apple II Softalk magazine and ST.Mac. So, all in all, there only were seven issues of ST.Mac, which might explain why even Mac enthusiasts often have never heard of it. I certainly hadn’t until pretty recently, despite having loved the Apple II Softalk for over 30 years.

The magazine is primarily focused on the Macintosh, but also considers Lisa within its scope, and it’s one of the best/only places to find magazine print ads relating to Lisa products. It’s also interesting to see some of the contemporaneous discussion, not all of it positive. I can say myself, having been fairly deep into the Apple II world at the time of the Mac’s introduction, that upon my first experience with a Mac (I think it may have been a “Fat Mac”, the second iteration that had 512K rather than 128K), I wasn’t actually swept away in the way people were supposed to have been. As a child (but one already pretty handy with the command line), it felt kind of slow and limited. True, there were a lot of dots per inch, but I still took it to be mostly a toy computer aimed at novices, and I pretty much ignored it for the next five years until I the Macs gained software and traction and speed (at which point I bought the SE/30, which I still consider to be basically the pinnacle of the compact Macs). And some of that kind of reaction can be seen in some the letters that got printed in ST.Mac, too, though of course the focus of the magazine was mostly the positive and new developments on the Mac platform, right as it was getting its start.

Anyway, I have now scanned the entire short run of this little magazine, and it is definitely interesting to read in retrospect. So, without further ado, here they are. The main links below are to the smaller 300dpi scans (around 70MB), and better, larger, 600dpi scans (around 260MB) are linked separately if that’s of interest.

Stmac feb1984 Stmac mar1984
Stmac apr 1984 Stmac 1984 may
Stmac 1984 jun St mac 1984 jul
St mac 1984 aug  

Quick File ///

Here is Quick File /// for the Apple ///. I imaged the disks and scanned the manual, since I didn’t find an existing manual scan online. The disks weren’t protected, and were actually already available on, but these are (presumably identical) images of my own disks. The program does work in Sara OS X, but note that in order to get the “tab” key to work, you need to press Ctrl-I, since pressing the actual tab key seems just to emit an “i” character.

I have two of these, one open, and one still wrapped. The open one didn’t have the slipcover, and I haven’t convinced myself to open the wrapped one yet. So there is no scan yet of the slipcover, but I may either open it or try to scan through the plastic.

Qf3 box wrapped

Nevertheless, this is what I will find inside the box if I wind up opening it:

Qf3 box open

Strangely, the manual is called Quick File /// Sampler. It sounds like that would be some kind of auxiliary manual used to point out aspects of the example files, but it is in fact the only manual there is with Quick File ///.

From playing with it briefly, it seems like it’s a pretty well-thought out database system, given its goals. It’s not a spreadsheet, but it can do basic total calculations in reports, and there is no kind of cross-table linking or relations. It also seems particularly novice-oriented, there is quite a bit of onscreen help and opportunities to undo mistakes.

Qf3 splash

Qf3 sues cards

Anyway, here are the files:

Qf3 manual Qf3 addendum

Qf3 boot disk

Qf3 program disk

Qf3 sample disk

Qf3 packing list Qf3 sla Qf3 auir

On Three 1987, volume 4

I finished up a few more scans of On Three, so here they are. I decided in the interest of collecting things together that I would post the whole volume in this post. I still need to scan June 1987 and re-scan March 1987, I’ll insert them in this post later once I have. I have also put up a static page with all of the scans I know about collected together for convenience.

Mike Maginnis scanned and posted a few of these issues earlier, which then made their way onto the asmiov Apple II archive site. I’ve fetched those for this collection—the ones Mike scanned are marked in the list below with an *.

On3 v4n1 On3 v4n2 1987 On3 v4n3
On3 v4n4 On3 v4n5 On3 v4n6
On3 v4n7 1987 On3 v4n8 1987 On3 v4n9
On3 v4n10 On3 v4n11 1987 On3 v4n12 1987

Casio FX-730P

Back in the summer of 1987 or 1988 or so, my family took a road trip across the country. This was a painful prospect, I couldn’t possibly bring my computer with me, and it wouldn’t be a lot of good anyway for the car. Fortunately, a business colleague of my mother’s had a programmable calculator to lend me for a couple of weeks. This was the Casio FX-730P.

Fx730p side top

I played a lot with this on that trip, although I don’t really remember what exactly I was doing with it, just remembered the ability to program on the road fondly. But now, 25 years on, I wanted to get one again. I didn’t know the model number of course, and looking around now, it turns out that there were many of this type of programmable calculator made at around that time. But, although perhaps it is just the fact that this was the one I learned on as a child, I find most of the other ones kind of ugly by comparison. I really like the colorful function bars, the placement of the keys. It’s one of the nicest looking in its class I think.

The FX-730P has 8K of memory built in, although it can be expanded to 16K with an additional RAM module, and it has a connector in the back for connecting peripherals such as a printer and a tape recorder for loading/saving data and programs. A little while back I tried to get a Raspberry Pi to communicate with the FX-730P, although I didn’t really get off the ground. It is not easy at all to find the peripherals for this thing now, though, so trying to do some kind of modern interface is probably where the future lies.

I do however have the box and manuals, which I’ve scanned. There is an existing scan of the manual out there, but it’s pretty low-quality. This one is much better, though it’s bigger. I may re-scan a couple of pages of the manual at some point, but for now:

Casio fx 730p box and contents

I haven’t really done much with this yet, apart from typing in some of the example programs from the manual, but I am looking forward to playing with this more. The inability to load and save things might drive me to resume the tape interface project again sometime soon, we shall see. More as it develops.

Not quite beating Autoduel. Yet.

I tried making some nibble copies of Origin Software’s Autoduel to run in an emulator, and of course it didn’t work. So I figured I’d try my hand again at boot tracing. Tricky stuff. There are a couple of hints out there about how to make the Autoduel disk copyable (see Computist #36, which refers back to the Ultima IV soft key in Computist #28, and “Toinet”‘s discussion of Ultima IV), but for the most part they don’t talk about what it’s doing, they just talk about the end result, what you need to change to defeat the copy protection. I will instead see if I can delve into the copy protection itself.

Using Virtual II’s Inspector, I managed to trace a bit down. It is kind of long and involved figuring out what everything does, even when it turns out to be innocuous. Let me just hit the highlights here.

When I try to boot the nibble copy, it just hangs. Why?

When it boots, it starts at $801, which loads in a few more sectors, and then jumps into it at $B700. The first kind of neat trick they did here is that the 26-byte program at $B700 takes everything in memory from $B71A onward and EORs it with $E6. So, you wouldn’t be able to find the code on the disk, because it’s all been (weakly) encrypted. Once the decryption is done, execution falls into the decrypted code at $B71A.

Autoduel decrypt b700

If we set the breakpoint at $B71A and let the decryption execute, we get much more sensible code there.

Autoduel decrypted b71a

Now we can actually look at what’s happening. And I did, but I won’t go into all the gory details here. The code at $B71A basically sets a bunch of parameters (and disables Reset), calls $B793, and then goes to $9D82, which is surely a DOS 3.3-like entry point. So, the next bit of trickery to be concerned with is what happens at $B793, where the rest of DOS is loaded.

The instruction at $B793 is just a JMP to $B800, but the first thing that happens at $B800 is that it goes back and modifies $B793 so that it starts with a LDY $B7E5 instead of a JMP $B800. So $B793 will be a useful routine, in fact it is going to be where execution continues shortly.

Autoduel address check b800

After it’s “un-patched” $B793, a counter is set to 7, and the disk is checked to see if it is write protected. If it isn’t, execution is diverted to $B830, which heads off to $B76B. This is fatal, if we look at what $B76B does, it moves a chunk of code from $B779 to $E0 and executes it. The chunk of code that it moves there just wipes out RAM and hangs in an infinite loop.

Autoduel move kill code b76b

Autoduel kill code e0

So, that’s the source of the hang I was getting, triggered just by the fact that the disk was not write protected. But write protecting the disk doesn’t solve the problem, it just moves us on to the next stage of the copy protection.

If we pass the write protection test, the next thing it does is call $B83E, store the result, call $B83E, and compare the result with what we stored the first time. If we get the same result for each pair of calls, the counter is decremented, and it tries again. Once it has made seven attempts, we are again sent to the kill code at $B76B. So, now the question is, what is $B83E looking for and returning?

Looking at what’s happening here at the beginning, it’s pretty clear. It’s looking for address marks D5 AA 96 on the disk. Then it loads four more nibbles, but throws them away (they should be the volume number and track number of the address it found).

Autoduel b83e t0s0 check

Continuing on after that point, from $B86E, it then looks for the nibble sequence AA AA, which would indicate that it is looking at sector zero. If it wasn’t looking at sector zero, it goes back and tries to find another sector. If it did find sector zero, then it loads up five more nibbles and returns with the last of them. These should be the checksum and then the address field closer, which on a DOS 3.3 disk is generally DE AA EB. So if this were a DOS 3.3 disk, we’d expect it to return EB.

Autoduel b83e t0s0 check end

In actual fact, the nibble stream I captured on side one of the disk has an address field closer of AF A5 AA for track 0 sector 0. Ultimately what this means is that every call to $B83E is coming back with AA. It is always the same, and so eventually the retry counter reaches zero, memory is wiped, and the program hangs.

At this point, I don’t actually know what they did to the original Autoduel disk to result in having the address field closer on track 0, sector 0, come back with an inconsistent third value. But I did know how I could fake it, and maybe this is how it was done on the original disk as well, although it was not captured by SST if so. What I did is found the stream of sync bits at the end of track zero (a whole bunch of FF nibbles), and stuck D5 AA 96 96 96 96 96 AA AA 96 96 96 96 96 in there in the nibble image using a hex editor. Breaking that down, it is the address field header D5 AA 96, four throwaway nibbles (96), the two AAs that the routine is looking for to identify sector zero, and five more throwaway nibbles representing the slots for the checksum and the address field closer. The important thing here is that the last nibble is not AA (I chose 96, but anything but AA would work).

This will now pass the protection check at $B800, and I didn’t have to modify any of the code. When it is looking for sector zero, sometimes it will find the real one and get AA as the last nibble and sometimes it will find my fake one and get 96 as the last nibble. They won’t match, and so execution continues back at $B793 without ticking down the counter and hanging.

The code at $B793, after having been modified by the routine at $B800, goes through and loads the rest of DOS, which it does through repeated calls to $B7B5, which stifles interrupts and passes control to $BA00. This is all basically just RWTS calls. However, trying to boot the disk at this stage still doesn’t work, it just grinds. So, there’s still one more level of protection somewhere.

I had observed above that the address field closers on the front side of the disk were abnormal, they generally start with AF, and then it varies, but they are not the usual DE AA EB. The address field closers on the back of the disk are DE AA EB, though. So, that’s a natural place to look, based on the experience with the Electronic Mailbag I detailed earlier. And it turns out Autoduel does a very similar trick. Deep in the heart of the RWTS routines, we find the part that reads the address field at $BE4D. It’s a little hard to follow, but it’s looking for D5 AA 96, grabs and decodes the next eight nibbles (volume, track, sector, checksum), and then starts looking for the closer at $BE8C.

Autoduel rwts addr closer

If it finds DE, the job is done, nothing else is checked. This would happen if we were reading the second side of the disk. The carry flag is cleared to indicate no error, and we’re out. If it doesn’t find DE (and it would have found AF on the front side of the disk), then it does that same thing I saw on Electronic Mailbag, it waits a couple of cycles then sees if it has gotten enough bits in (even before the whole nibble is read) to exceed 00001000. If it has, it reports an error. So again, I think what must have happened on the real disk is that there were some extra zeros written here to delay the arrival of the second nibble. In an emulated nibble image, this is not really an easy option.

Probably at this point, I could have tried to go through the entire nibble image and replace all of the initial two nibbles in the address field trailers with AF 00. That might work. It seems like a drastic change to make, but it has the advantage that the protection code could be left untouched. Because the address field closers are not really consistent in my image of the first side, though, a simple search and replace wouldn’t work. Moreover AF 00 is not a valid nibble sequence, so it relies on the emulator being willing to overlook that. Perhaps a simpler alternative would be to change those AFs to DEs in the first nibble of the address field closer, but it’s still not an easy search and replace to perform as far as I can tell using the hex editor I’m using.

One thing that does work, though it requires patching the code, is changing the CMP #$DE (which gives the second side an automatic pass) to AND #$8E CMP #$8E, since both DE and AF are 8E when ANDed with 8E. This gives both DE and AF an automatic pass. So if you’re sitting at the breakpoint that catches that very first write protection check, you can alter BE91 to 29 8E C9 8E F0 07 EA EA EA EA EA D0, which results in this:

Autoduel rwts addr patch

This leaves a little bit of protection in place to catch genuine disk errors (though I guess those are unlikely using an emulator), while allowing either AF or DE to be satisfactory first nibbles in the address field closer.

So, with the nibble image modified to contain the additional fake sector zero header on track zero, and a breakpoint set at the write protection check so I can set the negative flag and patch BE91 as above, resuming from there allows Autoduel to boot. This leaves the disk in pretty much its originally protected state, minus whatever bit delays were allowing it to actually pass the protection and accordingly, minus the check for them.

Autoduel splash screen

The last step is to write my new code back out to the nibble image. Again, I have the problem that this is a nibble image I’m trying to modify (because I want to leave the protection as close to intact as I can), and so replacing those 12 bytes is not a simple task.

Following the same procedure I used before with Electronic Mailbag, even after EORing it all with E6 to re-encrypt it, didn’t seem to work, I was still unable to find the nibble stream I needed in the Autoduel nibble image. So I’ll have to leave this project here incomplete, but at least with a beginning of an understanding of where the checks are and what they’re checking for. There may be something else going on (though the nibble image preserved it, since the disk boots). For the moment, the image is only usable by setting a breakpoint and modifying the code in place, then resuming the boot. Perhaps I’ll come back to it. The short version of how to get the disk to boot as-is in Virtual II: Set a breakpoint at $B81C, boot, set the negative flag, replace BE91 with 29 8E C9 8E F0 07 EA EA EA EA EA D0, and resume.

  • Autoduel side 1 (nibble image, still won’t boot without live patching of memory)
  • Autoduel side 2 (nibble image, works fine, a DSK might be fine too)


MUSE Software is probably most famous for Castle Wolfenstein, already a fairly early game for the Apple II platform, but they got their start much earlier. In 1978, MUSE was already producing quite a few titles on cassette, back when their name stood for Micro Users Software Exchange.

Mazegame tape 4

Already by 1979, they’d switched to referring to themselves as The Muse Software Company or The Muse Company, and then by 1980, MUSE Software, which stuck until the end. I tend to refer to them as MUSE now. The company had an interesting history, and there’s lots to say about them. Someday I’ll write more, though others have already written about them. Ed Zaron, Silas Warner, and Jim Black started the company, and Ed and Silas wrote pretty much everything during the early years.

There’s a nice overview of Silas Warner’s story at the Digital Antiquarian (Silas Warner and Muse Software), and the audio from Silas Warner’s presentation at KansasFest 1992 was preserved and made available. Softalk February 1982 has a company overview (Exec Muse) but I haven’t scanned it yet.

This post here is not about Maze Game (the picture of the tape above was just to show that MUSE was originally an acronym), though I’ll do a post about that later, but rather about ABM, one of the titles that MUSE released shortly before Castle Wolfenstein. Silas Warner speaks a bit about it in the KansasFest talk, I’ll transcribe what he said here.

ABM was written […] just before we started Castle Wolfenstein. […] As far as we knew it was a straight license from Atari Missile Command. Basically we wrote it and then Atari — we knew Atari was going to come back and someday say “We want a license fee from you,” but we figured we could get a few sales in before they actually demanded it. They came back, demanded a license fee, we paid it, and ABM came on that. By the way, there’s an interesting story about the title of ABM. We built a scrolling thing that would print up “ABM” in black and white squares using the text screen. So it would come up and then the rest of MUSE software and all that would come up. The “ABM” would scroll up from the bottom, real quick. Well, we made a mistake in that program, and instead of “ABM” scrolling up from the bottom and stopping, “ABM” would scroll up from the bottom — blip blip blip blip, up continuously. And we thought this looked so good that we kept it in the game, only adding a counter so it would do that five times.

The packaging for ABM was a simple white cardstock with red and black ink, sold in a baggie, the disk the standard Dysan disk (that MUSE pretty much always used) with a typewritten label. The instruction card on my particular copy had been folded in the middle, but was otherwise in remarkably good shape. Both the instruction card and the disk read “Audiovisual licensed from Atari.”

ABM packaging

I made a nibble copy of the disk image, and a scan of the card, which are below. The nibble image works fine in Virtual II.

ABM splash screen

ABM title screen

The gameplay is pretty much just Missile Command. The screen shot below is taken from the self-running demo that starts if you don’t start playing, incidentally. I’d like to think I’d do slightly better if I were actually playing.

ABM game play

Boot tracing in the 21st century

In a previous post, I went over the contents of The Electronic Mailbag program, but I want to also run through how I managed to get it into a usable format, since it was an interesting foray back into the world of boot tracing.

The disk itself is fairly resistant to copying, throwing lots of errors in most every program I tried. I had hoped just a nibble copy would suffice, but it didn’t.

When you start the program, it clearly is just booting DOS 3.3 (or, actually, as I discovered later on, Diversi-DOS, which is a modified and optimized version of DOS 3.3). It looks just like any standard-issue disk when booting, it makes the normal sounds, shows the Applesoft prompt, and runs a startup program. So it should be relatively easy. Nevertheless, the bit copies I made would grind and grind and then restart when I tried to use them.

So, step one was to grab the nibbles, which I accomplished using SST (Saltine’s Super-Transcopy), a modified version of the EDD (Essential Data Duplicator) copy program that allows to save the nibbles it collects during a copy operation onto two data disks, that can be later used to reconstitute the original disk. I saved the half tracks as well just in case, though they didn’t turn out to be necessary. Using the CFFA3000, I was able to put these data images on a USB stick that I could then move to my Mac for the rest of the work.

Mailbag sst

Once the images are on the Mac, running SST on an emulator allows you to reconstitute the nibbles onto a nibble image. I’m using Virtual II on the Mac, which has a bunch of very useful features for making this boot tracing adventure easier. Running SST in reverse and saving onto a .nib format disk image, I wound up with a mostly-faithful copy of the disk. What is not preserved is any kind of special timing information.

Inserting the disk into Virtual II and booting it just resulted in a bunch of disk grinding and rebooting. So, I decided to start watching what it was doing to see if I could find where it was going wrong.

The “normal” procedure for boot tracing is to copy the Disk II controller boot ROM into RAM somewhere and modify it so that when it is about to jump to the next stage, it instead stops, so you can examine memory. The ROM loads track 0, sector 0 into $0800 and then jumps to $0801, so normally you just change the jump to a return (60) and then look to see what it loaded.

This is where modern technology comes in, though. Now that the machine is virtual, it is no longer necessary to do all of that in quite such a step by step way. Instead, I just set a breakpoint at the jump to $0801 and used Virtual II’s fantastic “Inspector” panel to see what was happening.

Mailbag inspector 0801

Then just restart the machine and boot the disk, and it halts. The code it executes at $0801 loads the next stage of the boot process, and it’s pretty standard DOS 3.3 stuff. It loads the first 10 sectors of the disk into $B700-BFFF (which provides the basic RWTS [Read/Write Track/Sector] routines) and then jumps into it to load the rest of DOS in. Usually, this jumps to $B800, but here it is jumping instead to $BB00. So, set a breakpoint there (and best to clear the breakpoint at $C6F8, since that gets called repeatedly until RWTS is loaded).

Mailbag jmp bb00

Resuming on, it loads RWTS and stops at the breakpoint so we can investigate.

Mailbag bb00

It turns out that what happens at $BB00 is a little patch. This sets the reset vector so that pressing Reset won’t let the user out of the program (it will jump to $B75D if you hit reset and tells the machine it was just powered up), it stores $AA in zero page address $31, and then resumes the normal booting procedure at $B700. So this is a little bit of protection.

The code at $B700 is pretty much standard, there’s nothing of interest here that’s different from normal DOS 3.3. So, it loads all of the rest of the sectors to bring in DOS and then jumps to the DOS coldstart entry point at $9D84. However, it is clear from booting the disk that it never makes it to the DOS coldstart call. When it tries to read the disk, it just gets drive errors and fails. So there must be something tricky in the read part of RWTS. Let’s see.

The part of RWTS that reads the address marks is at $B944 (and this is all made much easier of course by the fact that this is just a slightly modified DOS 3.3 being used here, so all of the known entry points still seem to be valid). What this does on a normal DOS disk is this: it reads things on the disk until it encounters the nibbles D5 AA 96, after which it expects to find address information that tells it where it is on the disk, consisting of a track number, sector number, volume number, and checksum. After those, it expects to find DE AA, and then it is ready to start reading the sector data. It is actually a fairly common copy protection trick to alter these signatures, since normal DOS won’t be able to find any data if it can’t find the address marks. Looking at this, I see that it does something a little bit unusual here.

Mailbag address marks

Instead of looking for a nibble value of D5, it instead checks to see if the value it read, shifted one bit to the right, is 6A. As it happens, D5 shifted one bit to the right is 6A, so it would recognize normal D5 address mark nibbles, but it would also recognize D4 as well. A search of the nibble image does reveal a few D4AA96 headers (as well as D5AA96 headers), so that was one trick they used to keep the disk from being copyable. The second nibble in the header is normally AA, but here, rather than checking for AA, they check for whatever is in zero page address $31. Back a couple of steps ago, the patch at $BB00 put AA in $31, and as far as I can tell nothing ever changes that. Maybe this was a protection mechanism that they in the end opted not to use. So, the code is slightly different from standard DOS 3.3, but the effect is the same. Then, it wraps up by looking for 96 as usual. So, we now know that it is willing to accept address fields starting either with D5AA96 or D4AA96. While interesting, this hasn’t really gotten us any closer to making the disk boot, though, since the nibbles are recorded faithfully and the mixture of D5AA96 and D4AA96 headers were accordingly preserved as they were.

After reading the headers, it does the standard thing to bring in the track, sector, volume, and checksum information, and then it looks for a DE nibble to close the header, but then it does something strange.

Mailbag cmp 08

Normally, DOS would check for a DE, then check for an AA, and then it would be satisfied that the address has been read. What this does, however, is checks for a DE, and then immediately, without even waiting for the entire nibble to be read, pulls in some bits off the disk. If the bits it pulls in come too quickly, it reports an error. Specifically, it is reading the data latch (LDA $C08C,X) and if it has already gotten enough 1 bits to exceed 00001000, then it branches off to report a read error. So, what must have happened is that on the original disk, some extra zeros (or just a nonstandard nibble) were written after the DE nibble in the address field trailer. If those extra zeros are not there (and they wouldn’t be either in this nibble image or likely in a nibble copy), then the disk must not be the original.

So, that’s why it’s throwing all these read errors. But there is an easy fix. We just tell it not to react with an error even if it got the next nibble too quickly, by “commenting out” the branch to error. Specifically, replacing that instruction (BCS $B942) with NOP (no operation) commands. Fortunately, Virtual II also allows you to alter memory on the fly, so we can insert those NOPs now.

Mailbag nop nop

With that modification in place, resuming allows the disk to boot property.

Mailbag booted

If we were willing to set a breakpoint and modify the memory each time we booted the disk, we’d be done. But of course it would be nice to record those NOPs in the code it loads from the disk, so that it would just boot on its own.

This turned out to be a bigger challenge than I thought it would be. Ideally, I would have just copied the sectors over onto a normal DOS 3.3 disk and then used a disk editor to alter those bytes. But this address mark trickery was foiling almost every copy program I tried. This would still be the next step, since it is likely very feasible to turn this into a regular DOS 3.3 COPYAble disk. However, most copy programs are set up to handle altered address marks, and don’t allow you to completely ignore the closing marks, and after a while fiddling with Super IOB and modifications to RWTS, I decided I would just change the nibbles in the nibble image.

This is not an easy task. The form the data takes on the actual disk is actually quite far removed from the form it takes in memory. Each section is 256 bytes long, but due to the way the disk hardware works, it can only read 6 bits at a time. That’s what the nibbles are, 6 bit representations of parts of the bytes it is trying to read. So, when a sector is written, the bytes are all broken up into 6-bit chunks, with the most significant bits stored in one buffer, and then a mixture of the least significant bits, grouped together, in a second buffer. Once this is done, the 6-bit data is then run through a translation table to get to the actual nibbles that are written to the disk. Furthermore, the nibbles are not a straight translation through the table, but are also exclusive-ored with the previous nibble in order to generate a checksum at the end. So even though I knew very well that what I wanted to do was find the sequence C9 08 B0 A5 and replace it with C9 08 EA EA, finding that in the nibble stream is not at all easy.

I did some math and worked through lookup tables, thought I’d gotten what I was looking for and then got foiled by the fact that the nibbles are all exclusive-ored with each other, and finally gave up and decided to take a possibly easier route. I extracted the RWTS from the protected disk by setting a breakpoint at $BB00, and then moved the program counter to $FF65 (reset), moved the RWTS into memory that would be safe across rebooting, booted another disk, and BSAVEd just the page with the C9 08 B0 A5 in it onto a newly formatted nibble-format disk image. Then I replaced B0 A5 with EAs (the desired change) and BSAVEd the same page. And then I went in with a hex editor, located the two sectors that had the “before” and “after” data, copied it out into a text editor, and just scanned the lines until I found the differences. There were two triples that needed to be changed. A D6BDEA that needed to change to DBB4D7, and a EB9EB7 that needed to change to F79696. This was at a cost of a bit of time and eyestrain, but ultimately seemed like the simplest way to do what I was after.

Mailbag nibble compare

So, in a hex editor, I made the changes to the Electronic Mailbag nibble image, so that the address mark trailer check was NOPed out, and that is the nibble image I posted before. And which I will repeat here. The data disk is a normal DOS 3.3 disk.

I almost thought I still had something left to do, because when I tried to use it and it asked for the original disk to be inserted, it wasn’t recognized. I again turned to Virtual II’s inspector and took a little tour through the program that was loaded, looking for the text of the message that asked for the original disk to be inserted. A closer look revealed what the problem was.

Insert master disk

This is the Applesoft code, and all of the Applesoft keywords are tokenized, so it’s a bit hard to read. But you can use a grid of Applesoft tokens to decode it. The line that prints the message starts at $3BFB. It points to the next line (at $3C53), it is line number $84DA=34010 and it says HOME (97):VTAB (A2) 12:PRINT (BA) ” INSERT THE MASTER PROGRAM DISK AND PRESS A KEY”;:GET (BE) A$:PRINT (BA). The next line references the following line ($3C5E), is line number $84E4=34020, and says GOTO (AB) 34004. So, where is 34004? That would be line $84D4, which starts at $3BD4. It says PRINT (BA):HOME (97), then the next line says PRINT CHR$(4);”VERIFY SYSTEM”:GOTO (AB) 281. Ok, now where is 281? That’s $0119, so back to the early part of the program… One of the great things about Virtual II’s inspector is that you can just search memory, so I searched for 19 01 and found it right away.

Mailbag line 281

Without parsing it out, clearly it is invoking DOS to delete a file, and rewrite it as a text file that runs whatever is stored in F$, possibly the program that was chosen from the menu selection. This gave me an idea, though. Maybe all that it was doing was presuming that it was not using the original disk if the disk was not write protected. So, I tried write protecting the disk image, and presto! No more problems recognizing the original disk. So, I didn’t need to change anything after all, this was just enough exploration to give me an idea of what to try.

There’s no check here exactly, but the most obvious way to make it behave this way is to use the ONERR GOTO command, which traps errors and sends program control off to whatever line is specified. From the Applesoft token table, this would mean we should find the tokens A5 AB somewhere (ONERR GOTO), and searching around in memory I did find a few places where this was used. I didn’t investigate all of them, but they all send program control into those sections at the end of the program in the 30000 range.

Mailbag onerr goto

Anyway, so that’s how I got The Electronic Mailbag to run properly in an emulator. It is in almost pristine form, the only thing I had to do was NOP out a single check in the RWTS on the address field trailer. It is not “cracked” insofar as if it were written back out to a floppy, it wouldn’t be much more copyable than it was before (though now a bit copier should be able to copy it successfully). It actually shouldn’t be all that difficult to get it into a more standardized DOS 3.3 format from here, since it is basically just in a slightly warped DOS 3.3 format already, but for archival purposes, the goal is already achieved, so I’ll probably direct my energy elsewhere.

Intro to email

A while back, I got a copy of a disk called The Electronic Mailbag from eBay. The purpose of the software was to help the user get used to the idea of electronic mail and how checking/sending messages, printing, mass emails, and searching worked. A way to practice without the hazards inherent in using actual electronic mail.

Electronic mailbag disks

I thought “that sounds comical,” and wound up with the disks. Something to archive, as far as I know this is essentially its first appearance on the internet. According to the label and the screens within, it was produced in 1985 by a company called Exsys.

It isn’t really comical, though, it is pretty straightforward. If there was a manual, I don’t have it, and it doesn’t provide any amusing speculations about the future of email. It’s really just a program that mocks up an email interface and allows you to exchange messages with other people who have an account on the data disk. What was actually quite a bit more interesting was preparing this for use in an emulator. Though it is still kind of interesting that a product like this existed, from back when email was fairly new and relatively uncommon. These were the days when even BITNET was new, email was mostly for CompuServe and BBS users.

Here, I’ll just walk through the program. In a later post, I’ll discuss the lengths I went to to bring you the disk image. First the disk images, there is a program disk and a data disk. The data disk is a normal DOS 3.3 disk, and the program disk has to be used in this nibble format because I have not fully deprotected it, only got it to work with the nibble copy. The program disk must be write protected (which I note is not in the instructions anywhere, and the original disk is not write protected—nevertheless, it will refuse to recognize the program disk as original during a requested disk swap if it is able to modify the disk). In Virtual II on the Mac, write protecting a disk can be accomplished by “locking” the file (Get Info on the file in the Finder, check the “locked” checkbox).

When you start it up, you can either start the program, or go to the utilities. Let’s start with the program. There are three “levels” that the program can be run at, set within the utilities (basic, intermediate, and advanced). We will start at the intermediate level. At the basic and intermediate level, you have graphical menus.

Mailbag top menu

The first step in any email-related experience is to log in. You log in by entering a last name and a first name, and if you don’t yet have an account, entering “NEW” (otherwise, entering your password).

Mailbag login please Mailbag login last
Mailbag login first Mailbag login new
Mailbag insert data Mailbag new password

Once we have established who we are, we are presented with the main menu. The options are to read mail, send mail, get a list of users, and exit. We have no mail waiting.

Mailbag menu nomail

You are not allowed to send email to yourself, it seems, so I used another user account that was already on the disk and sent mail to myself. Here is what it looks like. There is no word-wrap, so if you type up to the end of the line, it will just beep at you. When you are ready to send or you realize you have made a mistake, you press Esc and you are presented with a basic line editor, where you can edit or delete a line, start over, or send.

Mailbag send mail

Mailbag send nowrap

Mailbag send message

Mailbag editor menu

Now, when we are back at the main menu, we have mail! Which we can read. (I obscured the name of the other account on the disk, but it doesn’t matter. There are no messages saved, and so certainly none that might compromise any future political careers.)

Mailbag youve got mail

Mailbag read mail

That’s basically it. Though, once you’ve mastered intermediate email, you can move on to the advanced level. This is accomplished by rebooting the disk and going into the utilities menu, and selecting the advanced level. Also in the utilities is the ability to send a “form letter” to all users.

Mailbag utility menu

Mailbag data disk utils

Mailbag form letter

Mailbag form letter text

The “advanced” version is non-graphical, simulating what you would experience over a modem in 80-column mode. When you log in, it helpfully tells you “Connection established” on “Port 14.” The options are mostly the same, though the ability to send messages to multiple recipients is now available, as is a user list search.

Mailbag advanced login

Mailbag advanced logging in

Mailbag advanced menu

Mailbag advanced read

And that’s about it. I decided not to take screenshots of every single thing you can do with the utility program, but it allows you to catalog the data disk, read messages, look up passwords, set the interface level. As far as I can tell, the main difference between “basic” and “intermediate” levels is that at the basic level you don’t have the text editing options in the graphical interface, you can just send or start over.

Mailbag basic send

The description of this program has already gotten so long that I won’t detail here how I got it into a usable nibble format, but I will post that soon, since it is interesting in its own right—actually quite a bit more interesting than it is to have preserved the program.