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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 9297 | 2019-07-17 13:58:45 | 94.22 | 98% |
| 7218 | 2019-02-03 14:22:21 | 92.21 | 98% |
| 5529 | 2018-08-23 09:31:03 | 90.54 | 98% |
| 2317 | 2018-03-23 01:09:40 | 91.62 | 98% |