The Winds of Limbo

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When the Fireclown spoke, promising salvation and life to the dying planet, his listeners trembled. What was the secret of his hypnotic power? Did he plan to save Earth for all mankind-or to make it his slave-planet?

IT WAS a vast cavern. Part of it was natural, part of it had been hollowed out by the machines of men. Some parts were deep in dancing shadows and others were brilliantly illuminated by a great blazing mass-a roaring, crackling miniature replica of the sun itself, that hung, constantly quivering and erupting, near the high roof.

Beneath this blazing orb a tall column rose up as if to meet it, and arms akimbo upon a platform at the top stood a gross figure, clad in ragged, harlequin costume. A soft, floppy, conical hat was jammed over his lank, yellow hair; his fat-rounded face was painted white, his eyes and mouth adorned with smears of red, yellow and black, and on the ragged red jerkin stretched taut upon his great belly was a vivid yellow sunburst.

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