Danny shifted his position again.
Yes, that black line across the sky connected directly with the queer something in the tree top.
"Wireless!" said the scout's head to him.
Danny stood up. All childish fear of a swinging ghost had dropped away from him. He had not the slightest inclination now to cry like a baby about anything.
He was a scout on duty!
Another moment and he was creeping, velvet-footed, through the woods, following that black line as it led away from the haunted tree. At the other end of it must be a receiving-station!
And it was no easy task which his duty set him. Over sharp rocks and through tangled briers that black line led him on. Sometimes the moon would desert him and he would lose the clue for a while. Sometimes he would be forced to abandon his clue to skirt around an insuperable barrier. But he always came back to it, always pressed on.
On and on! And then, suddenly, the line disappeared. It ended, or seemed to end in a large pile of boulders which clung to the mountainside. The undergrowth was dense here.
Danny circled about the spot. Yes, the wire stopped here. He began creeping through the underbrush—feeling his way along the side of a great boulder.
Suddenly his hand touched—nothing!