Better late than never...

I figured I'd tell a bit more about the little Colt 1903 that we found not too long ago, since we found out a little more about it.

Turns out, it's worth a bit more than we paid for it.  We're not sure how much more--we can't find a way to find that out--but here's the story.

Odysseus visited the gun shop where we bought it to buy the ammo for us to try it out.  He asked the proprietor if he had any more information about it, and he told the story of how he'd come by it.  Apparently, one of his customers brought it in to trade straight across for a new deer rifle.  He'd paid sixty dollars for it from a friend of his, who'd inherited it from his late uncle.  Who'd been the original owner.  And who'd kept it sitting in a nightstand drawer, seldom fired, for as long as anyone could remember.

There's wear on the slide, where the bluing has been rubbed off a bit.  The letters and numbers engraved in the slide and receiver are still sharp and easily readable.  The barrel is beautifully shiny, and the gun itself is in excellent shape. 

It shoots like a wet dream.  I was grouping shots in about three inch groups of three from twenty-five yards away.  And I can't hit the target from twenty-five yards away with any other handgun. 

The sights are tiny, and take a lot of focus and time to pick up; however, the gun was pin-point accurate, probably because of how difficult they are to see.

It's a beautiful gun, shoots beautifully, and has a neat history.  Yes, I will be shooting it once in a while.  Yes, it will reside, loaded, on my nightstand. 

No, I won't carry it.  I suspect that it's a hair more valuable than my Spartan (which, as it turns out, I can't shoot worth a damn).