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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 8409 | 2019-10-06 22:24:17 | 86.89 | 98% |
| 6787 | 2019-06-28 14:13:37 | 87.50 | 99% |
| 2198 | 2018-08-05 06:48:25 | 73.95 | 98% |
| 1886 | 2018-07-23 19:23:24 | 78.60 | 99% |
| 451 | 2018-06-20 09:34:04 | 66.28 | 97% |