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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6661 | 2020-12-17 21:45:46 | 91.27 | 96% |
| 4763 | 2020-11-07 22:05:21 | 87.60 | 96% |
| 1989 | 2020-09-09 16:48:15 | 93.12 | 98% |
| 1570 | 2020-08-28 11:26:47 | 90.08 | 97% |