ABSTRACT
Early on a weekday morning, three of us sat in a car across the street from a tobacco factory. The day would probably have seemed long and boring to others. For hours, we sat and watched as one tractor-trailer after another backed up to the dock to be loaded with its expensive cargo. We stared as box after box, each containing fifty cartons of smokes, was packed into the trailers until they could hold no more. As each truck drove away, we would copy down the number that identified the trailer the tractor was hauling.
