Naked, stark, ghostly, the blasted pine-tree rose before him. With a sudden spasm at his heart Danny looked for the swinging dead man. But if anything unearthly hung from those bare white branches, his mortal eyes were spared the vision. And presently his awakening reason began to urge: "There are no such things as 'ghosts.'" The next moment the young scout came fully to himself, and withdrew quickly from the all-revealing flood of moonlight to the friendly shadow of a low shrub. He began to peer sharply about. The growth around was ragged, with great spaces between. If there was anything here that a scout ought to note, the opportunity was ideal. He must perform the duty for which he was here! His leader had told him to know the spot before he showed up in camp again. Danny began skirting about in the shadows, getting every angle he could on the scene, and exploring adjacent wood lanes. It is true that he kept well away from the haunted tree, but he came back to its vicinity every now and then. And each time as he came he managed to force himself to approach it closer. Nearer and nearer he got to it, and then, suddenly, he heard issue from somewhere in its branches a low, sighing moan. Danny thought he would drop in his tracks, but he did not. Instead, he stood as still as death and listened. That moan again! Every time a gust of wind came, the dim, weird sound trembled along the night. The moon was shining brilliantly now. Danny stood staring at the haunted tree. All at once he crept forward, sharply intent on something. What was that straight black line against the sky? Where did it come from?--that haunted tree? Another moment and Danny was at the foot of the ghostly pine-tree, staring upward at the crisscross of its naked branches. There was no swinging dead man there, but there was _something_--at the top! Danny dropped to the ground and retreated a little on all fours for a better view-point. 'Way up, two parallel black bars rose against the sky. A scout must keep his head! Now, no boughs of a tree ever grew that straight! And what were those orderly black lines which extended from one bar to the other? That moan again!--or--or was it the sound of a wire, played upon by the wind? 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!