Soon after the move to Bleakridge, Bursley made Denry a Town Councillor. He was the youngest Councillor in the town, and one of the richest men in the Five Towns, but Councillor Cotterill still called him "young man".

Denry did not like Councillor Cotterill, but he was very friendly with Nellie and her mother. So when he bought one of the first cars in the Five Towns, he decided to invite them to go for a drive. When he got there, Nellie came to the door.

"Come in," she said. "I've got a surprise for you."

In the sitting room, next to Mrs Cotterill, Denry saw a wonderful woman, beautifully dressed in black. When she turned to look at him, Denry suddenly recognized her. It was Ruth. Then he remembered that Ruth had married a rich man, a Mr Capron-smith, who had recently died.

"Well, Ruth."

Conversation was not difficult. Ruth was talking about a holiday in Switzerland. Denry listened with interest.

"Well, Denry," she said, softly.

After a few minutes, the front door opened, and Mr Cotterill was heard in the hall. He did not come into the sitting room, so Mrs Cotterill went out to speak to him. When she came back, she was crying.

"It's the bank!" she cried. "After all these years, and now, suddenly… all his money…"

"We'll all go to Canada. My brother lives there -- he's in the building business. He'll give me a job. It's stupid really. I only need two thousand pounds, for a month or two, until I sell the houses I'm building. I say," he continued, "you don't have a thousand or two, do you, young man? There'll be an excellent profit in two or three months. You and I have been friends for ten years."

"Ah, Denry," he said. "You're a friend of the family. We've no secrets from you. I'm afraid things are looking bad. The fact is, the bank wants its money and I can't pay."

"What are you going to do?" asked Denry.

Nellie and Ruth ran to her, and Denry decided it was probably better to leave. But as he walked into the hall, he met Councillor Cotterill. He was looking very worried.

"And I suppose I've come to visit you once a fortnight," answered Denry. "Perhaps two hundred and fifty times in ten years. That's eight pounds a visit, Cotterill. That's more expensive than the most fashionable doctor in England!"

Several weeks later the Cotterills left Bursley and took the train to Liverpool, where they would take the ship to Canada. On the day they left the Five Towns, Denry happened to meet Ruth in the street.

This conversation does not make Denry look very kind. But Councillor Cotterill had called him "young man" too many times.

"No, it isn't," said Denry. "I could go to Liverpool and arrange it. The ship doesn't leave until tomorrow."

"Did you know they have the cheapest tickets for the ship?" she said. "It's terrible! And it's too late to change them now."

They found the Cotterills, and paid for them to travel in a more comfortable part of the ship. Mr Cotterill said he would repay them, Mrs Cotterill cried, and Nellie said nothing at all. The ship's bell rang for the second time. Denry and Ruth said their goodbyes and started to leave.

"Let's both go!" she said. "And we'll pay half each for their new tickets."

They had a very pleasant train journey. Ruth was warm and friendly to Denry, and as the train pulled into Liverpool, he had a very strange thought. "I could still marry her! She's a fine woman, and now she's rich herself…"

One evening Councillor Denry Machin sat down to tea with his wife, Nellie, in the house in Bleakridge. He opened the newspaper and read aloud: Sudden Death of Councillor Bloor.

Then Denry looked back and saw Nellie's sad little face. He felt as he had never felt before in his life. He wondered what was happening to his legs. He turned and ran back to Nellie.

"Look here," he whispered. "Come with me for a moment. There's something I want to give you. I left it in the taxi."

"But there's not time. The bell --"

"Poor man!" said Nellie. "And he was going to be mayor in November, wasn't he?"

"It'll only take a minute. Quick." Without waiting to argue, he took her hand, pulled her off the ship, and towards a taxi.

"I'll miss the boat."

"Which taxi is yours?" asked Nellie.

"I know you will. I don't want you to go to Canada."

"Well, what do you think?" shouted Denry. "I'm going to marry you, of course!"

"What are you going to do with me?" whispered Nellie.

"Any one. It doesn't matter. Jump in." He pushed her in.

Ruth was already lost in the crowds of people leaving the ship.

"Barlow, I suppose," said Denry.

"I probably will be mayor after Barlow. But I want to be the youngest mayor, which means I'll have to do it this year, while I'm still thirty-three."

A few days after Denry's conversation with Nellie there was a crowded meeting at the Town Hall to discuss the club's future. Barlow, the chairman, got up to speak.

"Who'll be mayor now?"

"The Council, of course. But you're right. Nobody likes Barlow. And he's having a lot of problems with the Football Club. He's the chairman, you know."

"I don't know. Why not?"

"I've been chairman of this club for thirteen years. In that time I've put two thousand pounds of my own money into the club. I can't put in any more. But what have you, the people of Bursley, done for your club? You don't come and watch. If we lose a game you stay at home the next week. We lose fifty or sixty pounds every time we play, and we can't go on like this."

"Would you like to be mayoress?"

"So he was," said Denry.

Bursley Football Club was having a very bad year. In fact it had had several very bad years. It lost most of its games, and because not many people wanted to see Bursley lose, few people went to watch the games.

"Who decides?"

"Barlow! He's an awful man! Nobody likes Barlow. Why don't they make you mayor?"

Nobody offered money. But more speakers stood up to ask for new players. Finally a man at the back of the hall stood up and walked up to the front.

Denry turned and looked at the sea of faces.

"New players!" said Barlow. "Where's the money for new players? Has anybody got a thousand pounds?"

Several other people stood up to speak. Most of them had nothing kind to say about Councillor Barlow. All of them said that the club needed new players.

"Yes!" shouted the crowd. "Callear! He's the best player in England!"

"It's Machin!" said somebody. "Good old Machin!"

"I don't know a lot about football," he said, "although I enjoy a good game. But I do want to say something about new players. Isn't it true that one of the best players in England comes from Bursley?"

"That's right. Callear. He left Bursley when he was nineteen to play for Liverpool. He scored a lot of goals there in three years. Then he went to York, didn't he? And York have some money problems now, I hear, and want to sell some of their players. Gentlemen, Callear must come back home to Bursley."

The hall exploded with laughter.

"That's him!" said somebody. "It's Callear. Good old Callear! Good old Machin!"

The hall was suddenly silent. A tall young man walked nervously down to the front of the hall.

"And how are we going to get Callear? Councillor Machin says he doesn't know much about football, and it's true! Aston Villa have already offered ￡700 for Callear. Blackburn have offered ￡750. Has anybody here got ￡800?"

Two days later a letter appeared in the Signal. It said that Denry should be the next mayor. Other letters followed, saying the same thing, and that Bursley needed a young and popular mayor. And when the Council met, it agreed.

"Now," called Denry, "Mr Callear, will you please come up to the front of the hall?"

"Well?" asked Denry, turning to Barlow. "Do you want him?"

"That's my problem. I've just come back from York. If you want him, you can have him."

"Have you finished?" asked Denry, who was still standing.

"Yes. But what about the money?"

The crowd in the hall were now very noisy and excited. Barlow jumped angrily to his feet.

"There's never been a man like him in all the Five Towns!" said another.

After the meeting a group of councillors were talking about Denry.

That evening Denry told Nellie: "You'll be the mayoress to the youngest mayor. And it's cost me, with hotels and travel, about eight hundred and eleven pounds!"

"But he's never done a day's work in his life," said Barlow. "What's he done for the town?"

"What a card!" said one, laughing.

"What's he done? He's made us all laugh! That's what he's done."