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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 15091 | 2020-03-28 15:33:45 | 62.90 | 95% |
| 14218 | 2019-12-31 21:48:17 | 70.36 | 95% |
| 9409 | 2019-05-20 19:22:45 | 65.35 | 97% |
| 2657 | 2018-07-03 12:45:28 | 59.44 | 97% |