Since you mentioned how you got your Crosman, I thought I'd share how I got my Sheridan.
This is a chapter in my autobiography, MEMIORS OF A MISSOURI COUNTRY BOY.

The True Story of How I Got
My First Sheridan Blue Streak

I kept my Daisy Red Ryder oiled, and I oiled my BBs, so it always shot hard. It took innumerable sparrows, but by fourth grade, I really needed more power and range. Ads in the sporting magazines convinced me that I needed a Sheridan Blue Streak pneumatic .20 caliber air rifle.

Dad wasn’t as easy to convince as I was.

I didn’t realize it, but apparently we were poor. Well, we really weren’t poor because we had lots of love in the family. But, we didn’t have very much money.

It appeared that I would have to fund the Blue Streak myself. So, I delivered 32 copies of the Quincy Herald Whig seven days a week throughout my small hometown of Wayland, Missouri. That town of 300 inhabitants was so small that I delivered papers out of the city limits in three directions on my bicycle.

I was lucky to be raised in such a small town. No one paid any attention to a kid carrying a gun down Main Street. I knew that if I could just get a Sheridan, I’d be able to use it.

Even after I had the money, Dad still wasn’t convinced that a Blue Streak would be a wise investment of my hard earned money.

I desperately needed more power. So, with the assistance of my uncle Delbert, my cousin Mark (Delbert’s son) and I started building firecracker guns. (I didn’t mention my endeavor to Dad.)

The firecracker guns employed ¼” gas pipe wired onto a wooden stock. A hole was drilled in a cap that was threaded onto the back of the gas pipe. The cap was unscrewed and a firecracker was inserted with the fuse coming out of the hole. After installing the cap, a foam wad was pushed down the barrel, followed by a ¼” lead ball, followed by another foam wad. I lit the fuse with a cigarette lighter and I HAD POWER!! Not much accuracy, but lots of power.

Unfortunately (or, perhaps, fortunately for my health), Dad found out about the firecracker guns. He did a quick mental calculation and determined that my medical bills from the firecracker guns were likely to cost much more than a Blue Streak. So he confiscated the firecracker guns with the promise that he would get me a pneumatic.

The day he arrived home with an airgun box, I could hardly contain my excitement. But, when I unboxed it, I was sorely disappointed. Instead of a Blue Streak, he had gotten a Benjamin 3100 pneumatic BB rifle (probably because BBs were lots cheaper than Sheridan .20 caliber pellets).

Dad and his father were both outstanding shots with rifle and shotgun. They were market hunters, so they had to be. They spent a whole afternoon trying to get that Benjamin to shoot reasonable groups. They finally gave up.

Dad took the Benjamin back.

I got my Blue Streak.

I miss you, Dad.