Winchester Model of 1894 38-55 by Wayne Hayes
Winchester 1894 38-55
The store opened at 7:00 a.m. just like every morning. Chickasha Oklahoma was not a very busy place in 1952. The old man who ran the hardware store didn't really expect any customers to speak of this early, just the usual coffee drinking crowd of locals. When the young man walked in a few minutes after that it was a surprise.
Lean youngster that he was, he had the look of an oilfield hand. Levi's were pressed and his shirt was ironed from what he could see under his winter coat. The owner had never seen him around before. "Can I help you?" He said from the back of the store, where he was pouring a cup of coffee from the old pot on the stove. "I could sure use a cup of that if you had an extra?" The old man grinned, the Oklahoma winter was biting. "Cups are right there, help yourself." The old man indicated a shelf holding ceramic mugs. The old man being mischievous then said "I am afraid I don't serve a full breakfast." The young man smiled and laughed a bit at the comment, "This coffee will do fine thank you. I am really just passing through and meeting a guy in town about a job, saw you were open and thought I might kill a few minutes. The coffee is good and the company seems friendly enough." The old man nodded his head with a smile and stuck out his hand. "Charlie Spencer." The young man took the offered hand and answered "Deany Hayes." "Well help yourself to the coffee young feller, I got to finish my opening chores. Feel free to look around." With a nod Mr. Spencer went back to his routine. Deany always loved hardware stores. Tools, knives, guns, and everything else you might need. He looked along the wall as Mr. Spencer was unlocking the long bar that went across the gun rack to hold them in place. He noticed one in particular, a long barreled lever gun, straight out of a John Wayne movie. He sat his cup down on the wooden plank table and moved toward the rack. He gave a "do you mind" look to the old man and it was returned with a nod acknowledging it was alright to pick it up. Winchester model 1894 Made in New Haven Connecticut caliber 38-55 Winchester. Full length octagonal rifle barrel, metal butt plate, and full buck-horn sight. It felt like holding an old friend, pointed natural and the lever action was smooth as glass. The small paper tag hanging on the lever had $175.00 scribbled on it in grease pencil. Considerable sum of money in 1952. "Lady traded me that for a potbelly stove. Husband died and they didn't have any sons, said she didn't need it anymore. I don't think she needed the stove either just wanted to get rid of the gun." The young man continued to look it over after looking up when he was spoken too. The stock was tight, the bluing was in good shape and all the screws were pristine (scarred up screws meant an amateur gunsmith had possibly been tinkering with it). He carefully placed the gun back down. He didn't really need to spend that much and besides you couldn't even hunt deer in Oklahoma with a rifle if you could find one. Soon enough he thanked to the old man and went out the door. Mr. Spencer, however had a suspicion he would see the lean Mr. Deany Hayes again. It took about two weeks. Again when the store was opening the young man walked in. "My coffee isn't that good son, you should try down the street at the cafe and you can even eat." Deany laughed and spoke, "Well it is a pretty good cup Mr. Spencer but that ain't why I came back." Mr. Spencer grinned and pointed to the gun rack that was already open "Yeah she is still up there." "How'd you know?" Mr. Spencer put down the rag he was dusting with. "Young feller' I have been in business for over 25 years, I can tell when a man has a case of the wants, but he also has a case of the why's. My guess is you went out and made enough extra money to buy that rifle. Now am I right or am I full of beans?" Deany gave a sheepish looked and said "Guilty as charged, took on some extra welding at the job site and made the extra money. Do you have bullets for it?" The old man looked below the gun rack and laid out five twenty round boxes. "100 rounds ought to give you enough to play with and have some left over to actually use." He then walked over to the gun rack and brought the old beauty over and laid it on the counter next to the ammunition. "What's the damage?" was all the young man said. Mr. Spencer had him cold, that was exactly what he was going to buy right down to the bullets. "Well, lets' see here. 1894 Winchester 38-55 of no use in this state to shoot anything but coyotes, 100 rounds that will probably be wasted on beer cans. $175.00 price tag on the gun...." his voice trailed off as he was making out the receipt. "Young man that will be $165.00 cash please." Mr. Spencer liked the look of the young man and obviously any man who could make that kind of money in a two week span was a hard worker. He was in the business to make money, but he had less than $100.00 in the rifle. It had been on his shelf for over two years and not so much as a nibble. It was illegal to hunt deer even if you could find one in Oklahoma with a rifle. The ammunition was too expensive to shoot at coyotes and jackrabbits. The young man had romantic notions of the rifle he could tell. ​Deany was caught off guard, "How did you figure that?" "With a pencil young feller', you watched me do it, |