"I didn't mean spinach exactly," mumbled the Vegetable Man hurriedly. "But look!" Pointing his twig-like finger to a bend in the road, Carter directed their attention to a weather-beaten sign. "Beware the Ants!" advised the sign mysteriously. "Oh, I hope they're not red ants," murmured Betsy, anxiously. "Red ants bite!" "Who's afraid of ants?" cried Reddy disdainfully. "All you have to do is tread on 'em." "That's right," agreed the Hungry Tiger. "I'm surprised at you, Carter, stopping us for a little thing like that." "But suppose there were millions of them," shuddered the Vegetable Man uneasily. "I'd be a feast for ants." Betsy looked troubled, but the Prince of Rash, slapping his pocket suddenly, reminded her of the Rash rubies. "The rubies will protect us no matter what happens," declared Reddy, confidently. "As soon as you see an ant, jump on my back," advised the Hungry Tiger calmly. "Then we'll all stick together and I'll run like sixty." Carter shook his head and muttered unhappily to himself. He could not help remembering the sad accident to his ears. They all kept their eyes glued to the road for the first sign of the ants, the Hungry Tiger tip-toeing along almost as if he were walking on eggs. They were all so intent upon the road beneath their feet that they never thought of the road ahead at all. Then Betsy, suddenly looking up to see whether any towns or villages were visible, gave a shrill scream and clasped her arms round the tiger's neck. "Ants?" quavered Carter, leaping upon the Hungry Tiger and fastening both hands in Reddy's belt. Betsy was too shocked for speech, and it was the Hungry Tiger, himself, who answered Carter's query. "Ants!" coughed the Hungry Tiger, trembling like a leaf, "Giants!" And swinging about like a pivot, the terrified beast raced off in the opposite direction. But the Giants had already seen them. There were four of the huge creatures, and Betsy, glancing fearfully over her shoulder saw the smallest--a perfectly tremendous little girl Giant--beginning to gain on them. The Hungry Tiger did his best, but who could hope to outdistance a creature whose every step covered a city block? "Father! Father!" shrilled the little Giant, in a voice that shook the hills, "see that darling little kitten!" Before the luckless travellers had time to plan, think, or act, a great hand came snatching downward and seized the Hungry Tiger by the scruff of the neck. Up went the tiger, off went the three riders and, turning seven somersaults, landed together in a hay field. By the time they had picked themselves up, the Giants were a mile down the road. "They're worse than gnomes," sputtered Carter indignantly. "Called the Hungry Tiger, a kitten! Did you hear that? It's a wonder that great girl didn't break us to bits." "She would have if we had not had the rubies," panted Evered, picking up his sword. "We must have fallen a quarter of a mile. Weren't you scared, Betsy?"