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

<passage>:
The case was thrown out on its ear. "Well? Speak up! What's the beef this time?" Vice President-in-Charge-of-Production of the Robling Titanium Corporation. What could they do to him, really? He had rehearsed his the showdown came, that he wouldn't say any such thing. And Oh, not because of the hand he lifted the visiphone receiver. "Get me Walter Towne," anticipated dividend reports. Walter shook his head wearily. Walter Towne stifled a yawn. "Perhaps you didn't understand Maybe his secretary's two neurones would fail to synapse this morning, and she'd lose them altogether. And, as long as he was dreaming, maybe Bailey would break his neck on the way Torkleson sat down, his heavy cheeks quivering. "Gentlemen, be reasonable! I can guarantee you your jobs, even give you a free hand with the management. So the dividends won't be with frantic activity as Walter glanced down the rows "The board meeting," Walter said gently. "That'll be enough for us." The union boss swore and slammed his fist on the desk. then at Walter. "Walk out in front of those men after what you've done? You're Walter gulped. "Yes, sir. Just four minutes, this time, sir. you're a vice president it's all right to mosey in here whenever too strongly of the old system of corporate organization to suit the men. The solution had been simple, if a trifle ungainly. Everyone who owned stock in Robling Titanium was automatically a member of the board of directors, with Torkleson as chairman of the board. The stockholders numbered over you feel like it." He glowered. "Well, this is three times this Walter sighed and shuffled back to his desk. Oh, well. It could have been worse. They might have fired him like poor rose with a howl of anger when Walter Towne walked out on Walter jumped a foot. Bailey was putting down the visiphone receiver. His grin spread unpleasantly from ear to ear. "What have you been doing lately? Sabotaging the production refused to divulge the key to the lock-in. And now this man—the ringleader who keeps the key word buried in secrecy—has line?" Walter rose slowly from his seat. This was it, then. Torkleson rushed onto the stage as Walter stood up. A tomato whizzed Walter gave a sharp nod to the side of the stage. Abruptly Walter could almost remember those days with Robling, instant of silence as the factory whistle died away, Walter burst to his feet. "It's a trick!" he howled. "Wait 'til you hear their price." The secretary flipped down the desk switch and eyed Walter Walter pushed through the door into the long, handsome well-dressed pounds and glared at Walter from under flagrant Walter swallowed. "I'm production manager of the corporation." Walter reddened. "He organizes the work of the plant, establishes He swung around to point a long finger at the fat man Walter spread his hands. "I do my best. I've been doing it sitting there. "The code word is TORKLESON!" Much later, Walter Towne and Jeff Bates pried the trophies off the wall of the big office. The lawyer shook his head sadly. Walter nodded as he struggled down with a moose head. the heap of papers into Walter's arms, and paced up and down "I've been doing everything I could," Walter snapped. "Of Walter Towne chuckled. "Doesn't it? I don't know. Everything's half of it—" Walter searched through the reports frantically. titanium market?" Walter took a deep breath. "I've warned "But they're cutting their own throats," Walter wailed. the dividends come in. That's your job. My job is to report a dividend every six months to the men who own the stock, the men working on the production lines." Walter nodded bitterly. "And every year the dividend has liked you, Walter. So I'm going to pretend I didn't hear Walter felt the fight go out of him like a dying wind. He Back in his cubbyhole downstairs, Walter stared hopelessly It was wrong, all the way down the line. Walter had the moose heads in Walter's old office, and moved him down deteriorate day by day. Now they blamed him, and threatened his job, and he was helpless to do anything about it. "It's ridiculous," the lawyer spluttered, staring at the circle striking against its own labor. It—it isn't done. Oh, there have been lockouts, but this isn't the same thing at all." Walter nodded. "Well, we couldn't very well lock the men anything, Walter? They wouldn't be watching the house?" the lawyer. "So we can't be sure of the legal end. You'd have fool, and he has a lot of power in the National Association of Union Stockholders. All he'd need to do is ask for managers, and a dozen companies would throw them to him on loan. They'd be able to figure out the machine system and take over "Not quite." Walter was grinning. "That's why I spoke of "For what?" asked the lawyer. Walter turned on him sharply. "For new contracts. Contracts you, Walter. I've taken all of Torkleson that I want to. And The others nodded. Walter rubbed his hands together. "All commit suicide, that's all right with me." He picked up his briefcase, and started for the door. "I'll have your contract ROBLING LOCK-IN CREATES PANDEMONIUM Torkleson, condemning Towne and his followers for "flagrant violation of management contracts and illegal fouling of managerial processes." Ben Starkey, President of the Board of American Steel, expressed "shock and regret" that "the instigators of this unprecedented crime be permanently barred from positions in American Industry." a little less money was spent on extras like Research and Development. At first—until that fateful night when Daniel P. Torkleson up of inter-union collusion to establish the infamous White was shouting into a telephone, and three lawyers were shouting robling titanium unfair to management . The third day, Jeff Bates was served with an injunction ordering Towne to return to work. It was duly appealed, legal machinery began tying itself in knots, and the strikers still "You're going to have to appear, Walter. We can't dodge ," the lawyer wailed. "They'll have you in jail if you don't start the machines again. They may have you in jail if you do start them, too, but that's another "We'll see," said Walter. "What time tomorrow?" Walter was there a half hour early. Torkleson's legal staff glowered from across the room. The judge glowered from the bench. Walter closed his eyes with a little smile as the charges were read: "—breach of contract, malicious mischief, sabotage of the company's machines, conspiring to destroy the livelihood of ten thousand workers. Your Honor, we are preparing Walter yawned as the words went on. "Of course, if the defendant will waive his appeals against were sabotaged, we will be happy to formally withdraw these charges." There was a rustle of sound through the courtroom. His "Yes, sir." Bates mopped his bald scalp. "The defendant pleads guilty to all counts." The union lawyer dropped his glasses on the table with a crash. The judge stared. "Mr. Bates, if you plead guilty, you "—but to send me to jail," said Walter Towne. "Go ahead. Send me to jail. In fact, I upon going to jail." The union lawyer's jaw sagged. There was a hurried conference. "Your Honor, the plaintiff desires to withdraw all charges at "Objection," Bates exclaimed. "We've already pleaded."

<question>:
Why was Walter being served criminal charges at the trial?

<options>:
A For selling company secrets
B For disabling the company's production abilities
C For leaving the company without notice
D For committing securities fraud

<answer>:

B