Ozma's face was puzzled. She was staring intently at the familiar picture. "No," she said quietly. "I think the Magic Picture is doing its best to show us the Black Bag right now."
Everyone looked at Ozma in astonishment. There was nothing in the Magic Picture that looked anything like the Black Bag. It was merely the old familiar scene that the magic picture showed when it was not in use.
"Conjo was very clever in a way," said Ozma. "He hid the Black Bag by means of his wizard powers in a place where few people would think to look. But he forgot that the Magic Picture is my own fairy creation, and I understand its magic better than anyone else."
The Little Ruler paused, saying to those around her: "Watch this closely now." She murmured a fairy charm so softly that none of the group could distinguish the words.
Something was moving in the Magic Picture. From behind the trunk of the tree that arose in the foreground of the picture, slipped a small black object. It grew larger and larger until it filled a quarter of the picture. Then it fell out of the picture-frame to the floor.
