With apologies to John Amber, who illustrated his Gun Digest article of the same name with pictures of mint-in-fitted-box Brockway buggy rifles, Farquharson target rifles and other such treasures.  I missed the era when a determined searcher could unearth a collection of very-good or better specimens without a grant from a museum foundation or a bank loan.  But still, there are the odd moments of collector epiphany, although in the grand scheme of things they might be regarded as no great shakes.  Something like this one:

It was a pretty small gun show in a pretty small, pretty isolated town.  The main advantage, to me was that it was fairly close by, as they go.  With the usual optimism that "this might be the day of the Big One!" tempered by, "What can a town that size have to offer?" I set forth on the seventy-mile (one way) trip.

It was a glorious spring day; the weather perfect and the traffic, as expected, light.  I found the show, noted no more than fifty tables, and immediately started thinking about post-show shopping and where I was going to eat lunch.  I started up and down the rows of tables, searching for the Good Stuff like Mel Fisher sweeping with his magnetometer for a sunken Spanish galleon.

One of the artifacts I accumulated in those days were wrecked 1894 Stevens Favorite rifles for "retirement projects."  I still think them the pinnacle of classy looks and would scarf them up as souvenirs if they were cheap enough.  I walked past a table full of kid's rifles, with several Stevens and Hopkins and Allens and a few later youth model bolt action .22's.  They were in pretty good condition and pretty pricey to boot, so I nodded to the table holder and moved on, down to the last row, back past the table with the kid's rifles and all the way to the end.

Taking up the entire table at the end was a huge pile of parts and junk.  My kind of table.  I walked past a heap of stained and broken buttstocks and fragments of actions of one type and another and zeroed in on a stack of barrels at the very end.  Sticking out of the pile was one with an action still attached to it, and the action looked sort of like a Favorite, but not quite.  I pulled the barreled action out of the stack, noting with approval that the forend was still attached.  It was a round barrel, not half octagon. The action looked Favorite, but different.  I turned it over to look at the left side and my blood pressure soared.  There was the tightly-fitted side plate, such as I had seen only in pictures in books.  The action was longer, slenderer, and, (as I worked the lever) a lot smoother than the regular Favorite.  The table owner came over.  Be cool; be cool; I mantra'd internally over and over.  I seemed to be viewing the whole scene as an outsider, in a state of intense, jangling excitement.  I heard myself say, "How much is this?" and was amazed that my voice sounded so casual and normal.

"Have you looked down the barrel yet?" the man asked.  I did so, finding no light at the end of the tunnel.  "Not much left in there, is it?" he said, laughing.  "Well, maybe I could send it out for relining," I replied, sounding (to my astonishment) disappointed and dejected.  Actually, I noted with approval that the metal was patinated, but not pitted, and everything seemed to be there but the buttstock.  "How much is it?" I asked again. "Wait," the table guy said, "First you got to go down to the other end of the table and look there."  Holding the barreled action in a clutch of death, I dutifully went down to the pile of stocks.  "The stock for that one is on top." the guy said, helpfully.  Sure enough, it was; a little smashed at the wrist but fixable, with metal buttplate still attached.  I held the pieces up.  "I was gonna break it up and sell it for parts, but you can have it for $35," he said.  I had that money in his hands so fast I looked for singeing around the edges.  We said our mutual thanks, and I started walking (on air) out of the show.

On the way out, I passed the boy's rifle table, and the owner raised an eyebrow in interest and inquiry at my purchase.  I casually turned the action over to show him, and said, in my best the-weather-is-very-normal-for-this-time-of-year tone of voice, "You don't see many of these Favorites with the Side Plate around."

His reaction was something I had not seen since the Smokey Stover cartoons went out of print.  His eyes popped out, the top of his head flew upwards, his jaw hit the ground and his ears shot out on each side.  "I'll give you whatever you paid for that; I'll trade you anything on my table for that, etc." came out in a desperate verbal stream.  He had, after all, been sitting practically across from this rifle all morning.  "Naaww, I'd better keep this one; don't know when I'll find another."  I smiled at him and left.

That day had everything.  Great weather, great drive, a great find (have seen three or four other Side Plates, total, large and small frame together) and a knowledgable fellow collector to congratulate me on my good fortune.  When I poked the obstruction out of the barrel and cleaned it, there was even rifling there so I could fire a ceremonial shot or two or three.  Why can't life be like this all the time?

Now I've broken the ice with as trivial an example as possible, does anyone else have such a story of their own?  We hear plenty of shooting, and even just taking them out of the safe and fondling them, but what about the hunt?

I still remember the time I bought my Steyr-Martini...  I hponed a dealer who happened to tell me he had come into a few Martini's, so I went over to take a look - just to see, of course 
He pulled out those 4 rifles:  1 minty volunteer carbine, not a blemish on the blue, checkered wood etc. - gorgeous!  The next one was an average Mk IV, nothing special.  No.3 was a Turkish Peabody Martini in so-so condition, and no.4 was the Roumanian Steyr - wood a bit dinged from handling, blue worn from over-enthousiastic cleaning but mechanically in perfect condition.
I hesitantly asked him for the prices, and he mentioned the 2 Brits being 30% more expensive than the 2 other rifles (normal for the carbine, ridiculously overpriced for the Mk IV) - naturally, by the time I already had been hankering for the Steyr, despite the then unknown calibre...  So, with a bit of a tremor in my voice, I said:  "I'll take the roumanian one, I cannot afford the carbine". (which was actually true at that time)
I paid around 450,- for it, which is not really cheap - but this is the one and only all-Original Steyr Martini Model 1879 military rifle I ever came across.  I took that one home with sweaty hands and a feeling of anticipation - after doing some checking, I knew I had a rare one...  It turned out to be chambered in #2 Musket (which was then army issue in Roumania, apparently, under a metric name) and is a real shooter too!  FWIW, I've seen a few of Witten manufacture appear on the 'net, but never a Steyr.  The barrel is just about perfect, and the finish puts a Brit Martini to shame!
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John Amber spent his life collecting and writing about the fine guns he found.  Because he did not catalog his collection in the same manner there were many folks who found “Triumphs in Gun Collecting” at the Amber auction.   There were many, I found three.

You are correct, Bob.  And, I'll have it there this year...on the bench, not offhand.  I will be shooting my Aydt for offhand...especially since Russ Gent is setting up a side match for pre-1940 German Schuetzen rifles, 20 shots offhand at 200 yards.   

David
Montezuma, IA

And just because it's old doesn't mean it's valuable!      

David
Montezuma, IA

Well my story isn't quite as good as Bent Ramrod's but I'll give it a shot! 
I've purchased two unique guns at local gun shops by sheer luck and good timing. Stopped one day at a local shop to talk, and look around. After not seeing anything I was visiting with another customer when in the front door walks a Ballard Schuetzen rifle! 
Of course my heart rate jumped to double, but being the well trained gun buyer, and taught good manners I didn't run over and snatch it before the owner could make a stab to buy it.
The seller of the gun was a young man who siad he inherited it from his grandfather, and wanted to trade it on a semiauto handgun in 9mm or .40 cal.! The dealer told him it was not an original Ballard and that as modified it was not worth what a new semiauto was worth! He offered the young man $300 and while I was praying the lad wouldn't take the money, he accepted the offer!
At this point I got up and asked the owner if I could look at it, and he handed it to me. After he paid the guy and returned, I asked what he planned to do with it? He looked at me strangely and said, "Well, sell it of course!"
I wanted to know what he'd need to get, and he told me he'd have to make 50% on the gun. Of course I immediately told him I'd buy it, but he said I needed to look closely at it before giving up my hard earned dollars, as "some idiot put his name on the barrel!"
I looked at the top of the barrel to see what he was pointing at, and there was a rollstamp which read, "GEO. C. SHOYEN  DENVER COLO." I nearly fainted when I saw this, and even with my best attempt to conceal my joy, I still think my voice quaked a bit when I said, "I think I've heard of that idiot."
I paid for the gun and literally ran out the door, as I was sure someone would yell "Stop thief!" as I exited!

Second story:
As some of you may know, I collect early Marlin lever action rifles. Friends look out for my interests, and one "very good" friend stopped by to tell me he had seen an old Marlin with a Swiss buttplate at a local shop that was closing it's doors. He said it was in a "barrel of clunker guns", and had a tag of $400. 
This was on a Sunday, so I couldn't go look until Tuesday when the shop opened. Didn't expect much as it had been almost a week since he'd seen the gun, and often these leads turn out to be something mundane or not even close. 
Still by noon Tuesday I couldn't work any longer, as I just couldn't get this tip off my mind. I left work early and headed to the shop. Upon entering I casually looked all around and found no "barrel of clunkers", so I started to leave. As I turned around, there was the barrel, and sure enough there was a Swiss buttplate! I walked over to the barrel and pulled out a model 1881 Marlin with deluxe 4X wood, checkered, pistol gripped, swiss buttplate, and cased receiver. All very special features, and when I turned the price tag over it read, $400! 
I went to the counter and paid the man. He wanted to do paperwork, but I reminded him that no 1881's were built after 1895, so it was cash and dash! When I got home I looked the gun over closer, and to my surprise....anothr rollstamp on the barrel! This one read, "E. FLUES  BAY CITY" 
After 18 months of research, and a lot of phone calls, letters, etc. I discovered this gun was customized by a gunsmith named Emil Flues, who had a shop in Bay City, Mich. in the 1900 era. Mr Flues was a young man of around 18-20 years old when he restocked, cased, and engraved the screw heads on this deluxe 1881. It was done for a judge in Saginaw, Mi. who was a member of the schuetzen club that Flues belonged to. Flues was secretary to the club, and did a number of guns for club members.
It turned out that Emil Flues was quite the talent, especially for shotguns, and was later hired as a designer for Ithaca Gun Co, where he worked for 30 years until his retirement. (Those familiar with shotguns, or Ithaca might recognise the Ithaca-Flues model name?)This 1881 was one of his earliest efforts, and truly showed at a young age his future capabilites. The whole time Flues worked for Ithaca he had his own business at home building beautiful custom SxS shotguns, and at age 90 when he died he was still working on his last gun!
Hope you enjoyed these two stories of fortunate finds for me!

Man that's one gorgeous Martini Gert.  I mean that. I do.  

I been thinking about some kind of good story about gun collecting. Mine are all pretty pale in comparison to what has been posted so far.
Then this morning when I was cooking my breakfast, it came to me. 
The most memorable gun deal was a sale. It was in August 1993. That gun sale was the ticket to my happiness. My ex wife and I werent getting along too well, so I sold  her rifles and used the money to retain a divorce attorney. That sure did make her sputter.  Things have been going real well ever since. 

                                                                   Joe.

One of my best gun deals was when the guy from the hardware store in town call to see if I wanted a 1895 schuetzen rifle ? I was going to blow this one off then I sead to my self maybe I could get the 1895 and trade it for something I wanted so I stoped in at the store the next day.The rifle turn out the be a 1885 special sporting rifle 32-40 30"#2barrel double set triggers 2X wood swiss butt  Ken