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death rowThe court appointed me two lawyers, Phillip C. Wilkins, and C.K. Curtwright. The first time I saw them, Warden Heinze had me locked on one side of a hallway, them on the other. He told Wilkins I was “a mad dog.”
Once again it was Mundt trying my case, this time as the prosecuting attorney. He had to prove that I, with malice aforethought
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