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

<passage>:
Management into the strike for the sole purpose of cutting current dividends and selling stock to themselves cheaply. The rumors grew easier and easier to believe. The workers came Production lines slowed. There were daily brawls on the plant floor, in the lounge and locker rooms. Workers began miserably, waving his fat paws in the air as he paced back and forth in front of the spokesmen for the striking managers. Walter Towne stifled a yawn. "Perhaps you didn't understand 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. "Walk out in front of those men after what you've done? You're fools! Well, I've given you your chance. You'll get your board Walter gulped. "Yes, sir. Just four minutes, this time, sir. with a crash. "After last month's fine production record, you demerit." Walter sighed and shuffled back to his desk. Oh, well. It could have been worse. They might have fired him like poor Cartwright last month. He'd just have rose with a howl of anger when Walter Towne walked out on Walter jumped a foot. Bailey was putting down the visiphone 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 jaws sagging, eyes wide, hardly believing their ears. In the Walter could almost remember those days with Robling, instant of silence as the factory whistle died away, Walter 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." "And just what does the production manager do all day?" Walter reddened. "He organizes the work of the plant, establishes production lines, works with Promotion and Sales, and richer since the switchover. Throw him out, and you too Walter spread his hands. "I do my best. I've been doing it Walter nodded as he struggled down with a moose head. at them! Sales at rock bottom. Receipts impossible. Big orders canceled. The worst reports in seven years, and you say you know your job!" "I've been doing everything I could," Walter snapped. "Of course the reports are bad, they couldn't help but be. We Walter Towne chuckled. "Doesn't it? I don't know. Everything's haven't met a production schedule in over two years. No plant can keep up production the way the men are working." Torkleson's face darkened. He leaned forward slowly. "So they come in when they please, and leave when they please, and spend half their time changing and the other half on Koffee-Kup. No company could survive this. But that's only seven years ago, you and your board have forced me to play the cheap products for the quick profit in order to give your men their dividends. Now the bottom's dropped out. We we had to cancel them. If you had let me manage the company the way it should have been run—" Torkleson had been slowly turning purple. Now he slammed his fist down on the desk. "We should just turn the company back to Management again, eh? Just let you have a free hand "You can't build a company and make it grow the way I've been forced to run it." 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 that paper on the first of next month, you are out of a job, on grounds of incompetence. And I will personally see that you go on every White list in the country." Walter felt the fight go out of him like a dying wind. He knew what the White list meant. No job, anywhere, ever, in management. No chance, ever, to join a union. No more house, no more weekly pay envelope. He spread his hands weakly. "What do you want?" he asked. Back in his cubbyhole downstairs, Walter stared hopelessly later. They all knew it—Hendricks of Promotion, Pendleton of Sales, the whole managerial staff. It was wrong, all the way down the line. Walter had to the cubbyhole, under Bailey's watchful eye. He had argued, and battled, and pleaded, and lost. He had watched the company deteriorate day by day. Now they blamed him, and threatened his job, and he was helpless to do anything about it. He stared at the machines, clicking busily against the wall. do that even Torkleson and his fat-jowled crew would understand. They could go on strike. "There just hasn't been a case of a company's management 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?" 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 Walter turned on him sharply. "For new contracts. Contracts "He'll never go along." "Then he'll be left behind." The others nodded. Walter rubbed his hands together. "All The news hit the afternoon telecasts the following day. Headlines screamed: MANAGEMENT SABOTAGES ROBLING MACHINES OFFICE STRIKERS THREATEN LABOR ECONOMY ROBLING LOCK-IN CREATES PANDEMONIUM There was a long, indignant statement from Daniel P. 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" the changes grew more radical. Walter Towne remembered those stormy days well. The gradual undercutting of the managerial salaries, the tightening up of inter-union collusion to establish the infamous White list of Recalcitrant Managers. The shift from hourly wage to annual salary for the factory workers, and the change to the other pole for the managerial staff. And then, with creeping malignancy, the hungry howling of the union bosses for more and higher dividends, year after year, moving steadily toward the inevitable crisis. Until Shop Steward Bailey suddenly found himself in charge of a dozen sputtering machines and an empty office. came in next morning. The union boss's office was crowded with TV cameras, newsmen, and puzzled workmen. The floor "It won't do any good, sir. They've got their own management troubles. They're scared silly of a sympathy strike." out of the union." He started for the door. "What were the blueprints for?" a plaintive message: robling titanium unfair to management . remained. 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 struck. By the fifth day there was a more serious note. "You're going to have to appear, Walter. We can't dodge Torkleson's getting desperate. The workers are putting pressure on him." Walter grinned. "Then Pendleton is doing a good job of "We'll see," said Walter. "What time tomorrow?" the bench. Walter closed his eyes with a little smile as the Walter yawned as the words went on.

<question>:
How does Walter change his situation?

<options>:
A He runs for public office.
B He turns the workers against Torkleson.
C He goes on strike to demand better pay and hours.
D He quits his job in management.

<answer>:

B