Motli stormed into the office at 8:00 sharp the next morning, still frothing at the mouth. "How DARE you!?" she screeched in that foghorn-like voice of hers. "How COULD you walk in on me and Bris like that last night!? You...you....perv!"

"Oh, cork it, Motli. I didn't see anything, and I was there on business. Besides, you don't want to end up with a shmoe like Bris Combs. The man is more boring than televised archery. You need..."

"Don't you presume to tell me what I need. Anyway, I talked to Bristol before I left this morning and he says you're crazy. He says there's no way on earth he's going to meet you today."

I snickered. "Sure he will. I'm smarter than he is and he knows it. Besides, he knows he'll get one more closed case out of the deal. He'll be there."

* * * * *

Two hours later, Bris Combs walked into Rachel Matthews's room at the hospital with a box under his arm, scowling. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he sneered. "And don't think I've forgotten about last night, either. You'll pay for that, Diamond."

"Send me a bill, Bris, then hold you breath," I replied, more concerned with what the doc was doing -- trying to revive Rachel Matthews. Given her behavior the night before I wasn't sure I wanted her revived. I watched, warily, as she came to, batting her eyes and looking around the room. "Rachel, how you feeling?" I asked. "Do you want to eat my spleen?"

She blinked several times, confused. "Excuse me? I don't even know you. I'm not in the habit of eating someone's spleen unless we've met. Oh... wait... I remember now. You're the man who found me after that lunatic ex-boyfriend of mine doped me up and threw me in that cage. Thank you so much"

"What!? You mean Safari Don was the kidnapper?" Bris Combs asked. "Dammit, Diamond, I thought you said...."

"Never mind what I said. Think about it, Bris. It had to be him...who else was there? But here's where it gets twisty." I took the box from Combs, opened it up, and pull out the contents. "Ms. Matthews... do you recognize this?"

Her eyes bulged and her skin went white with fear as I held the lemur over her, waving its cute little claws in her face. "Get it away from me!" she screamed. "Get that insane little monkey away from me!" She began rolling her eyes and hissing -- not a good sign. "Big claws! Big sharp claws! I'LL KILL YOU!"

I stepped back, fast. "Um... Doc? This hissing thing again... might be a good time for a sedative, huh? Before we all lose a vital organ. And when you're done," I said, handing the lemur back to Combs, "maybe you oughta check under this little guy's claws for a blood and tissue match to Safari Don."

Combs did a double take. "What? You said... what!? You're not seriously suggesting that..."

"That's right, Bris," I said, putting my hand on his shoulder. "The lemur did it." I waited just long enough for his blood pressure to get good and high. "Oh, don't get your knickers in a knot. I'll explain in a second."

Just then, Rachel Matthews began screaming at the top of her lungs again, this time reverting back to her form from yesterday. Only now she was yelling at Motli. "You! You think you're so smart! Ms. Know-it-all stock bimbo! Well, riddle me this, Stock Girl, before I break these restraints, rip off that putrid purple blouse you're wearing, and suck down your appendix with great glee! When does a customer's limit order get filled? HUH!?"

1) When the market drops enough to come close to his price.
2) When the specialist decides to execute it.
3) When the customer gives the go ahead to buy.
4) When the stock hits the price on the ask side.

Income Statement information provided by Joe Louderback.

The answer is 4) When the stock hits the price on the ask side.

A limit order, unlike a stop order, specifies a price at which the trade is to be executed. It will be executed at that price, or a better one.

For example, if you put a limit in to buy a stock at 43, and the stock trades at 42 7/8, you'd fill at 42 7/8, providing that was the first trade at (or below on a buy) the price you set. If the first trade is 43, you'll fill at 43. However, if the first trade is at 43 1/8, you won't fill. If it never comes down to 43, you'll have missed the market because you wanted a specific price.

When selling, the opposite is true. You'd fill at or above the price you set. This is the best way to guarantee a price, but not to guarantee execution. Limits are more often used in buying long or selling short. Stops are more often used for selling your long position. In brief, then: the stop is more often used to stop your losses from getting away from you. The limit us used more to protect your gains.

Again, we add the Foolish disclaimer that whether or not you sell an eighth above or below a given price, you should be in great stocks for the long term. Someone famous once said that no one ever got rich because of an eighth. Hear hear!

* * * * *

Motli got the answer right without thinking, of course. "Gee, she really is a little crazy. That was an easy one, hardly worth an appendix. Maybe a toe. Or a..."

"Motli, shut up," I said. Then I put my finger to my lips, indicating that everyone else should be quiet also. It didn't work on Rachel so the doc gave another shot of bye-bye. A big one. It did the trick. Then, at the top of my lungs, I said, "Yes, Bris, it's obvious that this evil lemur killed Safari Don. Ripped his throat right out. Now, we can't very well put a lemur on trial, and we don't want this psychotic creature ripping out anyone else's throat, so there's only one solution as far as I can see." I sneaked over to the door, cocking my pistol against the jam as hard and loud as I could. "I say we whack the little fur ball right now. Hold his butt up, Bristol, and let's get cap him!"

On cue the door burst open, and in flew the zoo guy, Lemuel Cashman, holding an almost identical lemur on a leash. "No! No! You mustn't hurt Kippy! It wasn't his fault! Don't hurt little Kippy! Please don't cap Kippy."

"Relax, Cashman, no one's gonna cap Kippy. Who's your friend?"

He held up the second lemur. "This is Paisley."

I nodded. "Kippy's life-mate, I presume?"

"Yes...oh dear, I'm so sorry. So very, very sorry. I just...I couldn't stand to see any more of the animals torn apart by that bad, bad man, Safari Don. They die of a broken heart when that happens, you know. And Paisley is so very special to me. Like a daughter. So I...I..."

I patted him on the shoulder and winked at Bris Combs. "You turned Kippy into a stone cold killer, didn't you? You trained him to recognize Safari's scent, and when Don got too close to Kippy's cage at the airport, Kippy kacked Don."

"And I don't care," Cashman said. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"Well, Cashman, it's gonna be a lot of heartbeats before you get another chance. I think you'd better give me the lemur and take a nice ride with Detective Combs there. You can explain it all to him, okay?" Cashman nodded. He handed me the leash and I put both lemurs into the box. Combs led Cashman out and Motli and I said goodbye to the doc, then grabbed our furry package and headed out ourselves.

"What are we gonna do with the lemurs, Acey?" she said. Apparently she was talking to me again.

"I don't know, Mot. Rachel Matthews is gonna inherit Don's estate when she gets better. Maybe she'd be willing to take both of 'em to the reserve. When it comes right down to it, Kippy the Killer lemur there probably saved her life." I stopped, turning to Motli. "Hey, Mot...do you...uh...do you wanna go out and get some dinner sometime?"

She didn't bat an eye. "You mean...like a social call? Sure, Acey," she said, climbing in the Triumph. "I thought you'd never ask."

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