I gave a hauler $180 to leave nine “frozen” lathes at a closed Missouri trade school instead of taking them to the scrapyard. He laughed at the bargain, and the parts-store owner later told me I should buy a new machine. I had only one dial reading to trust. Then a gunsmith bent over the barrel I’d just cut and stopped moving.
Roy held the bore light against the barrel and looked down the chamber. I stood beside the lathe with the…