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 |
---|---|---|---|
12600 | 2019-07-09 19:13:28 | 148.60 | 98% |
11813 | 2019-04-21 07:35:47 | 156.31 | 98% |
6435 | 2018-07-13 21:49:20 | 142.51 | 97% |