But Mr. Myson was not hunting for advertisements, and Denry soon saw him to be the kind of man who would be likely to depute that work to others. Of middle height, well and quietly dressed, with a sober, assured deportment, he spoke in a voice and accent that were not of the Five Towns; they were superior to the Five Towns. And in fact Mr. Myson originated in Manchester and had seen London. He was not provincial, and he beheld the Five Towns as part of the provinces, which no native of the Five Towns ever succeeds in doing. Nevertheless, his manner to Denry was the summit of easy and yet deferential politeness. He asked permission "to put something before" Denry. And when, rather taken aback by such smooth phrases, Denry had graciously accorded the permission, he gave a brief history of the _Five Towns Weekly_, showing how its circulation had grown, and definitely stating that at that moment it was yielding a profit. Then he said: "Now my scheme is to turn it into a daily." "Very good notion!" said Denry instinctively. "I ’m glad you think so," said Mr. Myson. "Because I ’ve come here in the hope of getting your assistance. I ’m a stranger to the district, and I want the co-operation of some one who is n’t. So I ’ve come to you. I need money, of course, though I have myself what most people would consider sufficient capital. But what I need more than money is—well—moral support." "And who put you on to me?" asked Denry. Mr. Myson smiled. "I put myself on to you," said he. "I think I may say I ’ve got my bearings in the Five Towns, after over a year’s journalism in it, and it appeared to me that you were the best man I could approach. I always believe in flying high."