Its checkering pattern and execution are the finest I’ve seen on any Stevens rifle, and almost worth the price by itself. And its Swiss-pattern Schützen stock is unusual by any conventional standard. All of which make it worth it.
The folks at Rock Island estimated it would bring $3,000 to $4,500. When the dust settled, it realized $4,406 and came home with me to join the six (or is it seven?) Stevens rifles that already grace the office, leaning languidly against bookshelves or relaxing in a corner.
As with every high-grade Stevens, there are mysteries about it that will never be solved. The genesis of the problem is the fact that Stevens was lackadaisical to the point of delinquency in its record-keeping, organization of models and options, serial number sequences, and marking of actions and barrels.
This is in stark contrast to the quality of materials and workmanship that went into their rifles, which were superb. To the good people at Stevens, I guess, some things mattered and some things didn’t.
The spotty record keeping is also reflected in the various catalogues issued during the company’s lifetime, which overlap, underlap, and contradict each other to the point of hair-pulling and ink-stand throwing. Then, after l918, the company was sold and, threatened with investigation for war profiteering, all the Stevens company records mysteriously went up in flames.
All the questions of what, when, who, where, and how much, so fixated upon by collectors, can never be answered. No Stevens can ever go up for sale accompanied by the prized “factory letter” giving its history and provenance. Nor is there, for all practical purposes, any such thing as “factory original,” except in the very odd case.
Having first set foot in the Stevens labyrinth five years ago, and written and researched a fair bit, in a way I find these mysteries more intriguing than exasperating. They are part of the Stevens charm that kept James J. Grant coming back throughout his lifetime, and which prompted Tom Rowe, also a noted Stevens collector, to produce a three-volume work on Stevens which may go down as the single largest—in size and weight—gun book ever written. (Twenty-five pounds plus, in case you’re wondering.)
And also, for those who are wondering, the newest member of my Stevens flock can put ten shots into an inch at 75 yards using the iron sights it came with, which is gratifying for any .22.
Gray’s shooting editor, having bought his first Stevens almost by accident, now finds himself a paid-up member of the Stevens cult.
