They walked down the hill across the fields and then turned to follow the river bank. Peduzzi talked rapidly with much winking and knowingness. As they walked three abreast the wife caught his breath across the wind. Once he nudged her in the ribs. Part of the time he talked in D’Ampezzo dialect and sometimes in Tyroler German dialect. He could not make out which the young gentleman and his wife understood the best so he was being bi-lingual. But as the young gentleman said _Ja Ja_ Peduzzi decided to talk altogether in Tyroler. The young gentleman and the wife understood nothing. Everybody in the town saw us going through with these rods. We’re probably being followed by the game police now. I wish we weren’t in on this damn thing. This damned old fool is so drunk too. Of course you haven’t got the guts to just go back, said the wife. Of course you have to go on. Why don’t you go back? Go on back Tiny. I’m going to stay with you. If you go to jail we might as well both go. They turned sharp down the bank and Peduzzi stood his coat blowing in the wind gesturing at the river. It was brown and muddy. Off on the right there was a dump heap. Say it to me in Italian, said the young gentleman _Un’ mezz’ ora. Piu d’ un’ mezz’ ora._ He says it’s at least a half an hour more. Go on back Tiny. You’re cold in this wind anyway. It’s a rotten day and we aren’t going to have any fun anyway. All right, she said, and climbed up the grassy bank. Peduzzi was down at the river and did not notice her till she was almost out of sight over the crest. Frau! he shouted. Frau! Fraulein! You’re not going? She went on over the crest of the hill. She’s gone! said Peduzzi. It shocked him. He took off the rubber bands that held the rod segments together and commenced to joint up one of the rods. But you said it was half an hour further. Oh yes. It is good half an hour down. It is good here too. Really? Of course. It is good here and good there too. The y. g. sat down on the bank and jointed up a rod, put on the reel and threaded the line through the guides. He felt uncomfortable and afraid that any minute a gamekeeper or a posse of citizens would come over the bank from the town. He could see the houses of the town and the campanile over the edge of the hill. He opened his leader box. Peduzzi leaned over and dug his flat hard thumb and forefinger in and tangled the moistened leaders. Have you some lead? No. You must have some lead. Peduzzi was excited. You must have _piombo. Piombo._ A little _piombo._ Just here. Just above the hook or your bait will float on the water. You must have it. Just a little _piombo._ Have you got some? No. He looked through all his pockets desperately. Sifting through the cloth dirt in the linings of his inside military pockets. I haven’t any. We must have _piombo._ We can’t fish then, said the y. g. and unjointed the rod, reeling the line back through the guides. We’ll get some _piombo_ and fish tomorrow.