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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2526 | 2018-03-11 15:20:53 | 79.21 | 96% |
| 2206 | 2018-02-16 20:37:23 | 75.40 | 97% |
| 2192 | 2018-02-16 09:48:32 | 81.59 | 97% |
| 2073 | 2018-02-09 19:54:42 | 70.76 | 95% |
| 1912 | 2018-01-23 18:06:47 | 81.06 | 97% |