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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 31316 | 2019-08-15 12:20:18 | 105.51 | 97% |
| 30406 | 2019-04-28 17:55:18 | 117.16 | 97% |
| 29172 | 2019-03-25 20:31:00 | 114.23 | 98% |
| 22759 | 2018-01-22 09:20:36 | 103.52 | 97% |
| 19149 | 2017-12-29 13:17:57 | 113.20 | 97% |