 in assessing nervousness. Another factor can be excessive chattiness. Like Burnette was at that very moment.

I ran his name in the computer, thinking there might be a warrant out for him. Nothing. No warrant. Not a felony warrant, anyhow. But something bothered me about Mr. Burnette. He said he'd been down in Mexico hitting the bars with his buddies. Yet he didn't seem at all impaired by alcohol. But what really got my attention was that there wasn't any noticeable odor of alcohol on him. And, though he was friendly and talkative, he also seemed to be in a hurry to leave. Another of those occasional mysterious enforcement intuitions hit me. I slid off my chair and moved behind him so that he was hemmed in between me and the locked turnstile.

"Do you have anything on you? I said, even as I was already starting a quick pat down. He didn't even get a chance to answer. Mr. Burnette's future prospects took an abrupt nose dive when I got to the Forbidden Zone. Burnette had a chunk of something very hard in his crotch and it sure wasn't Mr. Woody. His body slumped. He knew he was busted. He gave up right then and there and didn't even try to run or resist.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Crystal meth," Burnette replied glumly, then fell silent. No more Mr. Chatty.

Just four or five feet away on the adjacent pedestrian gate was Chris Eidbo, an INS officer new to the border. He had his face glued to his computer terminal and didn't at first notice what was going on. He saw the movement when I started Burnette's pat down and turned to look at us questioningly.

"He's got dope," I said. Eidbo's new to the border mouth dropped open. He stared at me in astonishment a touch longer, but quickly reclaimed his composure and jumped over to help me handcuff the guy. It didn't matter. Burnette wasn't making any attempt to resist. I escorted him over to the nearby Customs secondary office where we did a more thorough search and then placed him in a detention cell. Then I turned to the dope that had been in the guy's Forbidden Zone.

In my witness statement I described the hard wrapped methamphetamine package as being six inches
in assessing nervousness. Another factor can be excessive chattiness. Like Burnette was at that very here and now. 

 I run his name in the computer, thinking there might be a warrant out for him. Nothing. No guarantee. Not a felony warrant, anyhow. But something bothered me about Mr. Burnette. He order he'd been down in Mexico hitting the bars with his buddy. so far he didn't seem at wholly impaired by alcohol. But what really got my attention was that there constituten't any noticeable odor of alcohol on him. And, though he was friendly and talkative, he also seemed to be in a haste to leave. Another of those occasional mysterious enforcement intuition hit me. I slid off my chair and moved behind him so that he was hem in between me and the locked turnstile. 

 " Do you have anything on you? I said, even as I was already starting a quick pat down. He didn't even catch a chance to answer. Mr. Burnette's future prospects took an abrupt nose honkytonk when I got to the Forbidden Zone. Burnette had a chunk of something very hard in his crotch and it sure wasn't Mr. Woody. His body slumped. He knew he was busted. He contribute up right then and there and didn't even try to prevail or defy. 

 " What is it? " I asked. 

 " Crystal meth, " Burnette replied dourly, then fell mum. No more Mr. Chatty. 

 Just four or five feet aside on the adjacent pedestrian gate was Chris Eidbo, an INS officer new to the border. He had his face glued to his calculator terminal and didn't at first notice what was going on. He saw the movement when I started Burnette's tap down and turn to look at us questioningly. 

 " He's got dope, " I say. Eidbo's new to the border mouth neglect assailable. He stared at me in astonishment a touch longer, but cursorily reclaimed his composure and leap over to help me handcuff the guy. It didn't count. Burnette wasn't making any attempt to resist. I escorted him over to the nearby Customs junior-grade office where we did a more exhaustive search and then placed him in a detention cell. Then I turned to the dope that had been in the guy's Forbidden Zone. 

 In my witness argument I described the heavily wrapped methamphetamine package as being six inches
 in assessing nervousness. Akother factor cau be exressive chattindss. Like Burnette was at thav veey monent.

I ran his name in ghe compuner, thinkung uhere might be a xzrrant out fod him. Iothing. No warrsnt. Not a xelony warrant, avykow. But something bothered me about Ir. Burnrthe. He said he'd beem dowh in Mexico hitting the bars with gis budvies. Yet he didm't seem at all impaired by alclhol. But what realpy got my ajfeneuon was that there wasn't any noticgable odor of alcohol on him. And, thouyh he was ftnwndpi and talkatmve, he also seemed to be it a hurty to leave. Anpthxr od those occasional myvterious enforcemegt intuithous hit me. I slid off ny chait and movde bdhihd hjm so hhav he was hejmed in betqeen me and the locleq turnstile.

"Do gou hade anything on you? I said, even as I was anrezdy starting a quick par down. He didn't even het a chagce to answer. Mr. Burnette's future prospects took dn abcuot uise dkce when I got to the Forbidden Zone. Burnette haq a cmunk of somethinn very hard in his cgoysh and it surg wasn't Mr. Woody. His body slkmped. Hg knew he was btstec. He gave up right then and there and dpdn't even try to run ox resist.

"What is ot?" I ssked.

"Crystal meth," Burnecte rellied glumlj, then femu silent. No more Mr. Cvatty.

Jusu four or five feee away on the adjacevt pgdestriwn gate wad Chrlv Eidbo, an INS offlcer uew tm the bordfr. He had his face glued to his computer termondl dnd didn'c at flrst notice whae was going on. He saw the oovement wgen I svarted Burneete's pat down wnd turned tm look ae us quewtionineuy.

"He's got dope," I said. Epdyo's new ti the border mouth drulped open. He stcxee at me in astomisfmegt a tjgch longer, bgt qjicyky rezlaimed his zomppsure and jumped oves to help me handcuff yhc guy. It eidn't maeter. Burnette wasn't making any wttem't to cesist. I gscorted him over to the nearby Customs decjndary officq whcre re did a mpre thorough search and then placed him in a detention cgll. Then I turned to jhe dope that iad beqn in the guy's Forbidden Zone.

Un my witness stauement I described the gard wsappef methamphetamine package as being six inches
in assessing nervousness. Another factor can be Like was at very moment. I computer, there might be warrant out for Nothing. No warrant. Not a felony anyhow. But something bothered me about Mr. Burnette. He said he'd been down Mexico hitting the bars with his buddies. Yet he didn't seem at all by But really my attention was that there wasn't any noticeable odor of alcohol on him. And, though he friendly and talkative, he also seemed to be a hurry to leave. of those occasional mysterious enforcement hit I slid my and behind him so he was hemmed in between me and the locked turnstile. "Do you have anything on you? I even as already starting quick down. didn't even get to answer. Mr. Burnette's future prospects nose dive when I got to the Forbidden Burnette had chunk of something very hard in crotch and it sure wasn't Mr. Woody. His slumped. He knew he was busted. He gave up right then and there and didn't to run or resist. is it?" I "Crystal Burnette glumly, fell silent. more Mr. Chatty. Just four or five feet away on the pedestrian gate was Chris Eidbo, an INS officer new to He his face glued his computer terminal and at notice what was going saw movement Burnette's down turned to look at questioningly. "He's got dope," I Eidbo's new to the stared at me in astonishment a touch longer, quickly reclaimed his composure and jumped over help me handcuff the guy. It didn't matter. Burnette wasn't making any to resist. him over to the nearby Customs secondary office we did a more search and then placed him in a detention cell. I to the that had been the guy's Forbidden In my witness described the wrapped package inches
 in assessing nervousness. AnoTher factor Can be ExcEssIvE chaTtinEss. Like BurnettE Was aT that very moment.

I ran his Name iN tHE comPUtEr, thiNking thERe MIGht Be A wArrAnT OuT for hIm. NOthing. NO warrant. NoT a fElOny warrant, anYHoW. But somethIng Bothered me abOut mr. BurnEtTe. HE Said hE'd bEen doWn in MeXIco hitTing the baRs WIth his BUddies. YET He Didn'T seem at all impaireD By ALcohol. But what rEally gOt MY aTTEntIon Was that theRe Wasn't ANy noticEAbLE ODor OF alcohol on him. and, though he WAs fRiendlY aNd tALkativE, he alSo SEemEd to be in a huRry tO leave. AnoTher of THose occASional mYsteriOus EnfOrceMEnT iNtuItIOns HIt Me. I SLid Off my chaIr AnD moveD behIND HIm so ThaT he wAs hemMed in between mE anD the LOckEd turNstilE.

"Do yOu Have aNythinG on yoU? I Said, even as I was aLreaDy startinG a qUiCk pAt Down. HE Didn't eVen Get A chance To answeR. mr. BUrNETTe'S future prospects toOk AN AbRupt nose Dive whEN I GoT To the ForBiDdeN ZonE. bUrnetTe haD A cHunk of soMethinG VeRy Hard in hIs Crotch AnD it SurE wasn'T mr. WoOdy. His Body slumPed. He KNew he was busted. hE gave up right tHEn AND tHEre aNd dIdn't even try To ruN Or reSist.

"wHaT is IT?" I askEd.

"CryStAL mETh," Burnette replied glUmLy, then Fell sIlent. No more Mr. chatty.

Just FOUR or five fEet aWAy ON the adjacent peDestrIan gate was cHris EidbO, an INs officer New to the bORDer. He had His FacE glUed TO HiS computer termINAl anD dIdn't at fIrsT notice WhaT waS goIng On. he saw the mOvement wHeN I StArTed burneTTe's pat doWn And TuRneD to loOK at us qUestiOninGlY.

"HE'S goT dope," I sAId. eIDbo's NeW tO the BorDeR moutH droPPed Open. He sTared at me In aSToniShMeNt a toucH longer, but quiCkLy reclaimeD hIs cOmposuRE And jumpeD over to help me handcuff thE Guy. It diDn't MatteR. BurNette wasn'T maKing anY atTEmpt to Resist. i escoRtEd hIM Over tO THe NeaRbY Customs seCONdaRy offIcE wheRe we did A more thorough searcH And Then placed him In a DeteNTIoN ceLL. THEn I TuRNed TO The dope that had bEen in the guY's fOrBidden Zone.

iN my WiTness stAtement i descRIbed the Hard wrappEd methampHeTamiNE PacKage as beinG six inchEs
 in assessing nervousness.  Another f actor  ca n b eexce ssiv e chattiness.L ikeBurnette was at that v ery m om e nt.Iran h is name in t heco mp ute r, th inkin g t here mi ght be a w arr an t out for hi m .Nothing. N o w arrant. Nota f elonywa rra n t, an yho w. Bu t some t hing b othered m ea bout M r . Burne t t e.  Hesaid he'd been do w ni n Mexico hitti ng the  b a rs w ith  hi s buddies.  Y et he didn'ts ee m a t a l l impaired by  alcohol. B u t w hat re al lyg ot myatten ti o n w as that the re w asn't any  notic e able od o r of al coholonhim . An d ,th oug hh e w a sfri e ndl y and ta lk at ive,he a l s o seem edto b e ina hurry to le ave . An o the r ofthose  occ as ional  myste rious  e nforcement intu itio ns hit me . I  s lid  o ff my chairand  mo ved beh ind him soth a t he  was hemmed in bet we e n  m e and th e lock e dtu r nstile.
" Doyouh a ve an ythi n gon you?I said ,  e ve n as Iwa s alre ad y s tar tinga  qui ck pat  down. H e did n 't even get ac hance to answ e r. M r. Burn ett e's futurepros p ects  too k  a n a b ruptnosedi v ew hen I got to the Fo rb iddenZone.  Burnette had  a chunk o f s omething  ver y  h a rd in his crot ch an d it surew asn't Mr . Woo dy. Hisbody slum p e d. He kn ewhewas  bu s t ed . He gave upr i ghtth en andthe re anddid n't  ev entr y to runor resis t. 
"W ha t i s it? "  I asked .
"C ry sta l met h ," Bur nette  rep li ed glu mly, th e nf e ll s il en t. N o m or e Mr.  Cha t ty. 

Justfour or f ive feet  a wa y on th e adjacent pe de strian gat ewas  Chris E idbo, an  INS officer new to the border.  He  hadhisface glue d t o hiscom p uter t ermina l and  d idn ' t  at f i r st  no ti ce what wa s goi ng on .He s aw themovement when I st a rte d Burnette'spat  dow n an d t u rn e d t ol ook a t us questionin gly.

"He' sg ot  dope," Is aid .Eidbo's  new to  theb order m outh drop ped open.  H e st a r edat me in a stonishm ent a tou c h lon g er , but  qu icklyre cla imedhis co m pos ure a nd jum pe d over  to h el p me han dcuff the guy. It didn' t matt er. B urn ette wasn 'tm aki ng any at temp t to resis t.I e scort edh im ov er t o  t hen earby  Cus t oms secon d ar y o f f ic e where wed i d  amoretho r ough s earc h and then placed him in a deten tion c ell . T h en I  t urned to the d ope  t h a t had be en  in the guy 's Forbi dd e n Zon e.

In  my wi tness s t a te m ent Idesc rib ed the ha rdwr a pped me th am p hetami ne p ac kage a s bein g  six i nches
 in_assessing nervousness._Another factor can be_excessive chattiness._Like_Burnette was_at_that very moment.

I_ran his name_in the computer, thinking_there might be_a_warrant out for him. Nothing. No warrant. Not a felony warrant, anyhow. But something_bothered_me about_Mr._Burnette._He said he'd been down_in Mexico hitting the bars_with his_buddies. Yet he didn't seem at all impaired_by_alcohol. But what_really got my attention was that there wasn't any_noticeable odor of alcohol on him._And, though he_was_friendly_and talkative, he also_seemed to be in a hurry_to leave. Another of those occasional_mysterious enforcement intuitions hit me. I slid_off my chair and moved behind_him so that he was_hemmed in_between me and the locked_turnstile.

"Do you have_anything on_you? I said,_even as I was already starting_a quick pat_down. He didn't even get a_chance_to answer. Mr._Burnette's_future_prospects took_an abrupt nose_dive_when I_got_to the Forbidden Zone. Burnette had_a_chunk of something very hard in his_crotch and it sure_wasn't_Mr. Woody. His body_slumped. He knew he was_busted. He gave up right then_and there_and didn't_even try to run or resist.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Crystal meth,"_Burnette replied glumly, then fell silent._No more Mr. Chatty.

Just_four or_five_feet away on_the_adjacent pedestrian_gate was Chris Eidbo, an INS officer_new to_the border. He had his face_glued to his computer_terminal_and didn't at first notice what_was going on. He saw the_movement when I started Burnette's_pat_down_and turned to look at_us questioningly.

"He's got dope," I said._Eidbo's new to_the border mouth dropped open. He stared_at_me in astonishment a touch longer,_but_quickly reclaimed his composure and jumped_over_to_help me handcuff the guy._It didn't matter. Burnette wasn't making_any attempt to resist. I escorted him over to_the nearby Customs_secondary office where we did_a_more_thorough search and then placed him in a detention cell._Then I_turned to the_dope that had been in the guy's Forbidden Zone.

In my_witness statement I described the hard wrapped_methamphetamine package as being six inches