There is a funny story to this box and .22 revolver.
An elderly man and his sister owned the place behind my grandad's. Neither of them ever married and treated me sort of like a favorite nephew. As a kid, I enjoyed their company and would occasionally help them with projects around the house. He had a primo 16ga. M-12 that he would occasionally lend to me and even promised that I could have it "someday".
Sure enough, a few months after he passed away, his sister called me over to pick up the shotgun he had promised. Several years passed and I got another call from the sister. She declared that she had been cleaning out some dressers and had found her brother's revolver. She told me that it was still in the "box" where he kept it, and asked, "Would you like to have it?" (!!) I had visions of a WWI-era S&W or Colt still in its box - (or maybe even wooden case!) - and nearly rolled my car driving over there!
I'm positively plagued with these cheeky pests trying to get into my attic and down the flue of my wood-burning stove! I have to be careful not to attract the attention of the PoPo or the squirrel-feeding crowd. Either one can get me in deep you-know-what.