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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 27346 | 2019-08-01 17:09:00 | 90.88 | 97% |
| 26838 | 2019-07-23 11:48:13 | 82.75 | 95% |
| 26311 | 2019-07-06 20:35:07 | 81.68 | 96% |
| 20112 | 2018-11-15 09:01:14 | 66.94 | 95% |
| 7221 | 2018-05-26 14:14:45 | 61.29 | 93% |