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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 28308 | 2020-11-14 18:00:34 | 97.24 | 96% |
| 26446 | 2020-10-12 02:00:58 | 98.80 | 95% |
| 18906 | 2020-07-19 21:41:59 | 94.82 | 97% |
| 16846 | 2020-06-20 01:47:00 | 95.94 | 97% |
| 12710 | 2020-04-21 23:42:41 | 83.68 | 96% |
| 12504 | 2020-04-19 22:48:32 | 87.86 | 96% |
| 11089 | 2020-04-12 17:13:01 | 83.48 | 95% |
| 10942 | 2020-04-11 21:35:26 | 71.18 | 94% |