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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5707 | 2020-03-23 17:16:16 | 62.36 | 96% |
| 5202 | 2019-04-10 15:36:35 | 69.14 | 96% |
| 4717 | 2018-03-30 14:06:46 | 69.88 | 97% |