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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 23008 | 2019-09-09 18:02:24 | 104.44 | 98% |
| 22732 | 2019-09-03 17:33:39 | 104.54 | 98% |
| 17480 | 2019-04-02 18:35:24 | 95.29 | 98% |
| 11055 | 2018-11-14 21:56:12 | 91.82 | 97% |
| 7589 | 2018-08-06 06:34:09 | 98.41 | 98% |
| 6047 | 2018-07-12 18:34:16 | 91.62 | 98% |
| 5520 | 2018-07-05 21:35:12 | 90.45 | 97% |
| 4273 | 2018-06-15 01:28:10 | 96.13 | 98% |
| 2133 | 2018-02-09 13:14:23 | 90.08 | 97% |
| 1206 | 2018-01-13 02:17:03 | 98.05 | 97% |
| 662 | 2017-12-19 22:50:28 | 89.05 | 97% |