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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6349 | 2020-07-30 11:23:42 | 109.10 | 97% |
| 662 | 2020-04-17 16:23:18 | 92.38 | 97% |
| 84 | 2020-03-30 11:00:29 | 93.27 | 97% |
| 33 | 2020-03-27 15:06:43 | 90.56 | 97% |