My Dads Deer rifle was a Ruger RL in 257 Roberts. He accurized it himself and, boy could he drive tacks with it. Then one day he got the itch to improve it again. We took it to an old friend of his named Marion Reed who lived along Butler Creek near Bartlesville, Oklahoma, a gunsmith of no small talent. He had it a week and viola a 257 Ackley Improved. 117 grain bullets now flew at 3100 fps. He charged $100.00 because he had to make the cutting tools first.

Marion Reed did a lot of work for the late Frank Phillips and his son and at one time had an exhibit at the Woolaroc museum near Pawhuska, Oklahoma in his honor.

I was hunting with this rifle one day and I scanned the woods with the thought in the back of my mind that since it was near the end of deer season this place was hunted out. I managed to make it to the west side just before dark and low and behold...Deer. One, two, three...fourteen Deer, and a couple of them bucks, were just standing... in the middle of a cut field... 300 yards away... on property across the fence.

Hmmm... Think fast boy. I called the owner of the property I was hunting and asked for the number of his neighbor. Then I called him and told him I was looking over his fence at fourteen deer. He just simply asked “why don't you shoot one of them”. I'm pretty sure I said thanks before I hung up.

Taking a rest with Dads rifle over a post, I leveled down. Gloves, they get in my way. I usually don't wear them when I hunt but my left hand gets cold real fast anymore.

I bit my middle finger trying to pull the right one off, picked out the biggest Doe and... well, let's just say that Dad's old gun performed like he would have wanted it to.

A long shot is no big deal for an expert marksman, but I never claimed to be that and I guess it goes to show that an expert's gun can make anyone look good.

I looked skyward and thanked the Lord for a deer to eat, then said quietly, thanks Dad.