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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 70950 | 2019-07-09 19:13:27 | 151.45 | 99% |
| 69493 | 2019-05-15 23:53:31 | 152.02 | 99% |
| 53214 | 2018-05-26 18:54:06 | 143.16 | 99% |
| 46344 | 2018-03-14 17:34:49 | 137.70 | 98% |
| 41978 | 2018-01-10 01:44:11 | 154.27 | 99% |
| 35487 | 2017-11-19 21:14:07 | 125.83 | 98% |