Firing Line By GEORGE O. SMITH Illustrated by Orban [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Astounding Science-Fiction, October 1944. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Mark Kingman was surprised by the tapping on his windowpane. He thought that the window was unreachable from the outside--and then he realized that it was probably someone throwing bits of dirt or small stones. But who would do that when the doorway was free for any bell-ringer? He shrugged, and went to the window to look out--and become cross-eyed as his eyes tried to cope with a single circle not more than ten inches distant. He could see the circle--and the bands on the inside spiraling into the depths of the barrel, and a cold shiver ran up his spine from there to here. Behind the heavy automatic, a dark-complected man with a hawklike face grinned mirthlessly. Kingman stepped back and the stranger swung in and sat upon the windowsill. "Well?" asked the lawyer. "Is it well?" asked the stranger. "You know me?" "No. Never saw you before in my life? Is this a burglary?" "Nope. If it were, I'd have drilled you first so you couldn't describe me." Kingman shuddered. The stranger looked as though he meant it. "In case you require an introduction," said the hard-faced man, "I'm Allison Murdoch." "Hellion?" "None other." "You were in jail--" "I know. I've been there before." "But how did you escape?" "I'm a doctor of some repute," said Hellion, "Or was, until my darker reputation exceeded my reputation for neural surgery. It was simple. I slit my arm and deposited therein the contents of a cigarette. It swelled up like gangrene and they removed me to the hospital. I removed a few guards and lit out in the ambulance. And I am here." "Why?" Kingman then became thoughtful. "You're not telling me this for mutual friendship, Murdoch. What's on your mind?" "You were in the clink, too. How did you get out?" "The court proceedings were under question for procedure. It was further ruled that--" "I see. You bought your way out." "I did not--" "Kingman, you're a lawyer. A smart one, too." "Thank you--" "But you're capable of buying your freedom, which you did. Fundamentally, it makes no difference whether you bribe a guard to look the other way or bribe a jury to vote the other way. It's bribery in either case." Kingman smiled in a superior way. "With the very important difference that the latter means results in absolute freedom. Bribing a guard is freedom only so long as the law may be avoided." "So you did bribe the jury?" "I did nothing of the sort. It was a ruling over a technicality that did me the favor." "You created the technicality."