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 |
---|---|---|---|
20608 | 2020-02-28 17:54:22 | 101.41 | 99% |
18831 | 2019-04-01 15:27:17 | 91.68 | 98% |
9215 | 2017-11-17 02:30:43 | 71.66 | 96% |
8561 | 2017-10-25 13:29:50 | 80.89 | 97% |
8197 | 2017-10-17 10:07:02 | 78.83 | 97% |
7480 | 2017-10-07 03:00:27 | 70.87 | 96% |