Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
Solomon's Orbit patrolman passed her on. Two of the three accounted for. What of the third? Quietly a cavalcade formed, converged in Solomon's front yard and parked facing the road ready for meteor—it is square. The accursed Americans have sent up a house. Comrades ... an ancient automobile is flying toward our space approaches. Once they were in two civilians went to Solomon's door. His last cup of coffee was almost gone as Solomon heard the noise of their shoes, followed by knuckles thumping his front door. Wondering who could be in such a hurry, so early in the morning, he pulled on boots and buttoned a denim jacket as he went to answer. "Hello," said Solomon to the patrolman, while opening the door. "Why you bother me so early? You know I only buy cars from exiling technicians and photographers "No, Mr. Solomon, we're not caught in obvious attempt to ridicule our efforts to probe mysteries "Sure, come in," Solomon replied. The questions were odd: Do you have explosives here? Can you weld metal tanks? What is your education? Were you ever an engineer? busy 200-inch telescope was To these, and bewildering others, Solomon told the truth. He had no explosives, couldn't weld, didn't finish school and was here, in bed, photographing a strange new object, all night. not have to open the office, Solomon led the three men into his yard. Once inside, and without asking permission, they began searching like a hungry hound trailing in the glare of early morning sun, watched invasion of his privacy. "What they want?" he wondered. He'd broken no laws in all the years he'd been in the United States. "For what do they bother a wrecking yard?" he asked himself. His depressing thoughts were rudely shattered by a hail from the back of Solomon's yard. There, row. "Solomon, come here a moment," he shouted. Solomon had no projects involving motor vehicles. Central Intelligence swore in an attempt to hit Castro. Disgusted, the President established a Solomon's lead. When he trudged back, followed by the left their curious searching to follow of Flight 26, New York to Los Angeles, had two weeks before reported a strange object rising short civilian and patrolman who left," Solomon eagerly replied, is the last—" "Who bought the others?" the big man interrupted. "No one," quavered Solomon, terror gripping his throat with a nervous hand. Had he done wrong to send cars into the sky? Everyone something rising from earth's surface into the stratosphere. Within were racing to send things into the air. What had he done that was wrong? Surely there was no law hours after the three reports met, "Then where did they go?" Number Seven, stationed in the Mount Wilson television tower parking lot, caught one first. "Hey snapped his questioner. circling the junk yard, taking stations "You did what?" "I sent them into the sky," quavered Solomon. So this is what he did wrong. Would they lock him up? What would happen to his cars? And his business? "How did you ... no! Wait a minute. Don't say a word. Officer, go and tell my men to prevent anyone from approaching or leaving this place." The patrolman position, a Highway patrolman and Solomon told the civilians of to pressure from exhaust manifolds. A logical way to make like satellite engines he'd read about in newspapers. It worked on a cracked engine block, asleep, totally unaware of the making of history in its back yard. call Solomon's Orbit had its beginning Solomon, who couldn't remember rather fast. They let Solomon get meeting with the President. They left guards posted inside the fence of Solomon's yard, so they'll cause no attention while protecting his property. A rugged individual sits in the office and tells buyers and sellers alike, that he is Solomon's nephew. "The old man had to take a trip in a hurry." Because he knows nothing of the business, they'll have to wait until Solomon returns. Where's Solomon now? Newspaper Command is planning to attach to a stratospheric decompression test chamber. They figure if they can throw it into the sky, they can move anything up to what astronomers now call Solomon's Orbit, sabbatical. Eyes closed, Solomon satellite. The Russians? We're told they're still burning their fingers trying to orbit a car. They can't figure how to control vacuum and pressure from the manifolds. Solomon didn't tell many people about the shingles he uses for control panels, and the Russians think control is somehow related to kitchen know he would." "Sure, Son, let's go in and see Solomon's junk yard. what he's got," replied a man's matches a newspaper reporter found "Mr Solomon, Georgie here for a reply, Solomon started, head guided tour of Solomon's yard than are," announced Solomon over his shoulder. Stepping aside he made room for the boy and his father to Solomon's for a last brave stand. to Solomon's prejudiced eyes Dad exploded, "Those wrecks aren't good for anything but shooting at the moon. Let's go." Not Solomon's office, his footsteps were Solomon, a figure of lonely dejection which started Solomon to thinking called an ion engine, which creates a force field to move satellites, As Solomon told the people in in the back yard. When suddenly he figured there was an easier way to build a satellite power plant. But, as it was past his bedtime, he'd put one together tomorrow. try his satellite power plant idea. Customers were gone and he was Solomon had the engine waving Solomon backed his Moreland out Solomon stopped for a minute to worry. "If it works," he thought, "when I get them nearer each other, it'll go up in my face." Scanning the yard he thought of fenders, doors, wheels, hub caps from an old Chevy truck. Back at the engine, he punched a hole in scientists in block houses when they shot rockets and was taking no chances. Excitement glistened Solomon's old eyes as what blood idea worked, he would be free of the old cars, yet not destroy a single one. Squatting behind the station wagon, to watch the engine, Solomon cord. Tired legs failed and Solomon whirlwind had come through the yard. The scent of air-borne dust bit his nostrils as he struggled to his feet. Deep in the woods behind Solomon's yard two boys were hunting crows. Eyes high, they scanned "Look, there goes one," the younger cried as a large dark object "But it's flying too high for us." "I must be a silly old man," Solomon thought, scanning the cleared space behind his tow truck where he remembered an engine. There was nothing there, and as Solomon propped the now missing engine. That night was a whirlwind of excitement for Solomon. He had make you a good deal, too. I just raised anything they were attached to. Solomon couldn't help but shingles because Solomon figured pretty big, so Solomon waited until bedtime before stumbling through the dark to the launching pad in his yard. Light from kitchen matches helped collect the shingle cords as he crouched behind the in one calloused hand, a burning match in the other so he could watch the Essex. Solomon tightened aid of Solomon's unique combination faint "God Bless You," Solomon was hidden in a curious farmer's orange grove. assigned the loading dock of a meat-packing plant, but the night watchman wouldn't allow them to stay. They moved across the street behind a fire station. Three was too big to hide, so it opened for business Solomon reached his back door. By the time bedroom lights were out and covers under his bristly chin, a task force of quiet men was speeding on its way to surround a chicken ranch, Solomon's from his house, Highway patrolmen

<question>:
Why do the patrolmen come to Solomon's business?

<options>:
A They suspect he is a con artist.
B They want to know how he is sending cars into space.
C They think he is dangerous.
D They suspect he is building a bomb.

<answer>:

B