I placed my revolver, cocked, upon the top of the wooden case behind which I crouched. Holmes shot the slide across the front of his lantern and left us in pitch darkness - such an absolute darkness as I have never before experienced. The smell of hot metal remained to assure us that the light was still there, ready to flash out at a moment's notice. To me, with my nerves worked up to a pitch of expectancy, there was something depressing and subduing in the sudden gloom, and in the cold dank air of the vault.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 25034 | 2019-06-11 23:03:31 | 107.65 | 97% |
| 22984 | 2019-01-11 19:43:18 | 107.02 | 98% |
| 22939 | 2019-01-10 19:36:47 | 106.72 | 97% |
| 18035 | 2018-07-06 20:01:10 | 110.99 | 98% |
| 14121 | 2018-03-14 18:15:28 | 104.95 | 97% |
| 8493 | 2017-10-17 14:13:20 | 98.60 | 97% |
| 7570 | 2017-10-03 13:27:00 | 94.04 | 96% |