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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3871 | 2019-08-16 18:25:29 | 84.10 | 97% |
| 2899 | 2019-07-22 19:29:58 | 89.33 | 97% |
| 2554 | 2019-07-12 02:19:16 | 87.09 | 97% |
| 2394 | 2019-07-08 22:34:23 | 89.86 | 98% |
| 2347 | 2019-07-07 23:03:32 | 92.55 | 98% |
| 2310 | 2019-07-07 22:21:53 | 87.13 | 97% |