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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 11251 | 2019-08-30 15:58:17 | 87.58 | 98% |
| 10201 | 2019-07-08 21:49:21 | 90.50 | 97% |
| 9594 | 2018-11-03 04:07:33 | 80.89 | 96% |
| 7559 | 2018-04-26 19:04:55 | 83.13 | 98% |
| 1326 | 2018-02-05 18:24:20 | 66.04 | 97% |
| 933 | 2018-02-01 19:41:00 | 60.14 | 96% |