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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 20189 | 2019-09-08 13:46:46 | 113.73 | 97% |
| 20134 | 2019-09-07 08:36:26 | 136.20 | 99% |
| 18963 | 2019-06-05 15:44:58 | 111.97 | 97% |
| 16019 | 2019-02-03 07:17:09 | 103.51 | 97% |
| 11342 | 2018-11-05 23:27:06 | 99.88 | 96% |
| 9656 | 2018-07-16 11:42:01 | 101.05 | 96% |
| 6910 | 2018-02-11 10:15:17 | 96.14 | 96% |
| 6734 | 2017-12-23 16:40:45 | 101.85 | 98% |
| 1771 | 2017-10-04 08:37:03 | 80.96 | 96% |