"Stott--he is known to every one in Ailesworth as 'Ginger' Stott--is a short, thick-set young man, with abnormally long arms that are tanned a rich red up to the elbow. The tan does not, however, obliterate the golden freckles with which arm and face are richly speckled. There is no need to speculate as to the _raison d'être_ of his nickname. The hair of his head, a close, short crop, is a pale russet, and the hair on his hands and arms is a yellower shade of the same colour. 'Ginger' is, indeed, a perfectly apt description. He has a square chin and a thin-lipped, determined mouth. His eyes are a clear, but rather light blue, his forehead is good, broad, and high, and he has a well-proportioned head. One might have put him down as an engineer, essentially intelligent, purposeful, and reserved." The description is journalistic, but I do not know that I could improve upon the detail of it. I can see those queer, freckled, hairy arms of his as I write--the combination of colours in them produced an effect that was almost orange. It struck one as unusual.... Surrey had the choice of innings, and decided to bat, despite the fact that the wicket was drying after rain, under the influence of a steady south-west wind and occasional bursts of sunshine. Would any captain in Stott's second year have dared to take first innings under such conditions? The question is farcical now, but not a single member of the Hampdenshire Eleven had the least conception that the Surrey captain was deliberately throwing away his chances on that eventful day. Wallis and I were sitting together in the reporters' box. There were only four of us; two specials,--Wallis and myself,--a news-agency reporter, and a local man. "Stott takes first over," remarked Wallis, sharpening his pencil and arranging his watch and score-sheet--he was very meticulous in his methods. "They've put him to bowl against the wind. He's medium right, isn't he?" "Haven't the least idea," I said. "He volunteered no information; Hampdenshire have been keeping him dark." Wallis sneered. "Think they've got a find, eh?" he said. "We'll wait and see what he can do against first-class batting." We did not have to wait long. As usual, Thorpe and Harrison were first wicket for Surrey, and Thorpe took the first ball. It bowled him. It made his wicket look as untidy as any wicket I have ever seen. The off stump was out of the ground, and the other two were markedly divergent. "Damn it, I wasn't ready for him," we heard Thorpe say in the professionals' room. Thorpe always had some excuse, but on this occasion it was justified. C. V. Punshon was the next comer, and he got his first ball through the slips for four, but Wallis looked at me with a raised eyebrow.