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had brought out more than 4 , 000 people for the largest farm auction in western Kansas history. There were cars and trucks from Colorado, Nebraska, and Oklahoma, and practically every county in Kansas west of Newton and Wichita. Auctioneer John Collins, his white shirt shining in the sun, sold everything of value to a swarm of men in coats and Stetsons—tools, tractors, and farm implements.
    On Tuesday, jury selection began. For the first time since the courthouse was erected in 1929 , the varnished church-type pews were pushed to the sides and rear to leave room at the front for a special press table and 13 chairs. The newsmen sitting there, pleased to see Nelle back, had taken to calling her “Little Nelle.” 36
    Just before ten o’clock, district judge Roland Tate entered. Overhead, the telltale metallic clunk of the jail door announced that the defendants were coming down.
    The effects of sitting in jail for two months told on them. “Perry Smith is much heavier,” Nelle noted; Richard Hickock, “fatter, greener, and more gruesome.” 37 Outwardly, they seemed bored, covering perhaps for being stared at by the 44 prospective jurors who had assembled in the courtroom to be sworn in and questioned. District court clerk Mae Purdy called the prospective jurors’ names in a droning voice. Only four were women.
    By day’s end, the jury was composed entirely of men, including the reserve of alternates. Half were farmers. Smith, an amateur artist, had passed the time sketching on a legal pad. Hickock chomped relentlessly on a wad of gum, his chin resting on his hand now and then. The two men had implicated each other in their confessions, but there seemed to be no break in their relationship. Nelle saw Hickock glance at Smith just once, “the briefest exchange of glances, and the old eye rolled coldly. This was when the lawyers huddled the last time and made their preemptory challenges on papers. Smith and Hickock were left alone at the table. Perry looked at him—gave Hickock one of his melting glances—really melting in its intensity—Hickcock felt eyes upon him, looked around and smiled the shadow of a smile.” 38
    The turnout for the actual trial exceeded the courtroom’s capacity of 160 persons. At the press table, Associated Press reporter Elon Torrence noticed that Truman, dressed in a blue sports jacket, khaki trousers, white shirt, and a bow tie, spent most of his time listening, while Nelle, bringing to bear her law school training, “took notes and did most of the work during the trial.” 39
    There were no surprises. “How cheap!” exclaimed special prosecutor Logan Green in his closing argument to the jury. “The loot was only about $ 80 , or $ 20 a life.” Harrison Smith and Arthur Fleming, attorneys for the accused, did not contest the state’s evidence but pleaded for life imprisonment. Harrison Smith argued capital punishment is “a miserable failure.” The jury deliberated less than two hours.
    On Tuesday, March 29 , Judge Roland Tate sentenced both men to hang. “When the Judge was telling the jury what a good job they had done,” Hickock told Male magazine,
    I thought that these pompous old ginks were the lousiest looking specimens of manhood I had ever seen; old cronies that acted like they were God or somebody. Right then I wished every one of them had been at the Clutter house that night and that included the Judge. I would have found out how much God they had in them! If they had been there and had any God in them I would have let it run out on the floor. I thought, boy, I’d like to do it right here. Now there was something that would have really stirred them up!
    When the jury filed out of the courtroom not one of them would look at me. I looked each one in the face and I kept thinking, Look at me, look at me, look at me!
    But none of them would. 40
    This jury was no different from others in not