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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6966 | 2018-09-21 15:31:00 | 77.04 | 97% |
| 3883 | 2018-01-14 13:54:37 | 63.75 | 95% |
| 916 | 2017-10-03 12:40:29 | 61.46 | 95% |
| 812 | 2017-10-01 13:25:22 | 60.18 | 95% |