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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 63216 | 2019-08-22 16:54:09 | 163.92 | 99% |
| 62819 | 2019-08-15 13:53:37 | 153.31 | 99% |
| 52349 | 2019-03-10 04:08:17 | 176.60 | 99% |
| 46905 | 2019-01-03 17:38:00 | 165.85 | 99% |
| 41222 | 2018-10-20 13:25:32 | 165.65 | 99% |
| 40494 | 2018-10-15 05:54:49 | 171.05 | 100% |
| 37279 | 2018-09-18 03:24:24 | 154.16 | 99% |
| 30863 | 2018-07-09 13:58:20 | 153.88 | 100% |
| 29544 | 2018-06-23 14:21:10 | 144.70 | 98% |