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

<passage>:
without note. Circus "Just suppose," said Morgan, "that I did believe you. Just for argument." He glanced up at the man across the restaurant table. "Where would we go from here?" Maybe hunted look in their depths that chilled Morgan a little. "Where to believe me, Morgan. I'm lost, I mean it. If I can't get help, I don't know where it's going to end." "I'll tell you where it's going to end," said Morgan. "It's fan swished patiently. The man across from Morgan ran a hand "All right, let's start from the beginning again," Morgan said. "Maybe we can pin something down a little better. You say your name is Parks—right?" The man nodded. "Jefferson Haldeman Parks, if that helps any. Haldeman was my mother's maiden name." Parks nodded. "Fine. Now go through the whole story again. What happened first?" and tried to flag down a ride." "How did you feel? I mean, was there anything strange that you noticed?" " Strange! " Parks' eyes widened. "I—I was speechless. At first I hadn't noticed too much—I was concerned with the fall, and whether I was hurt or not. I didn't really think about much Morgan's mouth took a grim line. "You understood the Morgan nodded. "I know, I noticed. What did you do when had been no way of knowing if it would be useful, but I'd taken it on chance. I tried to use it at a newsstand first, and the man wouldn't touch it. Asked me if I thought I was the U.S. Treasury or something. When he saw that I was serious, he So I found a place—" "Let me see the coins." Parks dropped two small gold discs on the table. They were perfectly smooth and perfectly round, tapered by wear to a thin blunt edge. There was no design on them, and no printing. Morgan looked up at the man sharply. "What did you get for these?" Parks shrugged. "Too little, I suspect. Two dollars for the small one, five for the larger." "You should have gone to a bank." Morgan sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Well, then what?" Parks poured some more coffee. His face was very pale, Morgan thought, and his hands trembled as he raised the cup to his lips. Fright? Maybe. Hard to tell. The man put down think what anyone at home would do in my place. That seemed a good bet. I asked a policeman where it was, and then I went there." "But you didn't get to see him." and that I would have to have an appointment. She let me speak to another man, one of the mayor's assistants." "And you told him?" "No. I wanted to see the mayor himself. I thought that was the best thing to do. I waited for a couple of hours, until another assistant came along and told me flatly that the mayor wouldn't see me unless I stated my business first." He drew in a deep breath. "So I stated it. And then I was gently but firmly ushered back into the street again." "They didn't believe you," said Morgan. "Not for a minute. They laughed in my face." Morgan nodded. "I'm beginning to get the pattern. So what did you do next?" "Next I tried the police. I got the same treatment there, only they weren't so gentle. They wouldn't listen either. They muttered something about cranks and their crazy notions, and when they asked me where I lived, they thought I was—what did they call it?—a wise guy! Told me to get out and not come back with any more wild stories." "I see," said Morgan. Jefferson Parks finished his last bite of pie and pushed the plate away. "By then I didn't know quite what to do. I'd been prepared for almost anything excepting this. It was frightening. I tried to rationalize it, and then I quit trying. It wasn't that I attracted attention, or anything like that, quite the contrary. Nobody even looked at me, unless I said something to , things that I could show them, and say, see, this proves that I'm telling the truth, look at it—" He looked up helplessly. "Except yourself," Morgan said. couldn't find anything. Then I went to a doctor." Morgan's eyebrows lifted. "Good," he said. Parks shrugged tiredly. "Not really. He examined me. He practically took me apart. I carefully refrained from saying anything about who I was or where I came from just said I wanted a complete physical examination, and let him go to it. He was thorough, and when he finished he patted me on the back and said, 'Parks, you've got nothing to worry about. You're as fine, strapping a specimen of a healthy human being as I've ever seen.' And that was that." Parks laughed bitterly. "I guess I was supposed to be happy with the verdict, and instead I was ready to knock him down. It was idiotic, it defied reason, it was infuriating." Morgan nodded sourly. "Because you're not a human Morgan asked curiously. "There must have been a million others to choose from." Parks unbuttoned his collar and rubbed his stubbled chin unhappily. "I didn't make the choice. Neither did anyone else. Travel by warp is a little different from travel by the rocket it spots a likely looking place, we keep a tight beam on it and send through a manned scout." He grinned sourly. "Like me. If it looks good to the scout, he signals back, and they Morgan. the other side of the universe from mine, with the first intelligent they won't believe me !" "Why should they?" asked Morgan. "You look like a human being. You talk like one. You eat like one. You act like one. What you're asking them to believe is utterly incredible." " But it's true. " Morgan shrugged. "So it's true. I won't argue with you. But as I asked before, even if I did believe you, what do you expect me , of all the people you've seen?" There was a desperate light in Parks' eyes. "I was tired, tired of being laughed at, tired of having people looking at me as though I'd lost my wits when I tried to tell them the truth. They could fill in what I don't know and build a guide beam. But they won't do it if they don't believe me. Your government won't listen to me, they won't appropriate any money." "Of course they won't. They've got a war or two on their rockets to the moon to sink their money into." Morgan stared Morgan didn't move. He just stared. "How many people have you talked to?" he asked. "A dozen, a hundred, maybe a thousand." "And how many believed you?" "None." "You mean nobody would believe you?" " And then Morgan was laughing, laughing bitterly, tears rolling down his cheeks. "And I'm the one man who couldn't help you if my life depended on it," he gasped. "You believe me?" Morgan nodded sadly. "I believe you. Yes. I think your "Then you can help me." "Why not?" "Because I'd be worse than no help at all." Jefferson Parks gripped the table, his knuckles white. "Why?" he cried hoarsely. "If you believe me, why can't you help me?" Morgan pointed to the magazine lying on the table. "I write, yes," he said sadly. "Ever read stories like this before?" Parks picked up the magazine, glanced at the bright cover. "I barely looked at it." "You should look more closely. I have a story in this issue. stopped at a page that carried Roger Morgan's name. His eyes "Just suppose," said Martin, "that I did believe you. Just for argument." He glanced up at the man across the table. "Where do we go from here?"

<question>:
Why does Morgan believe Parks?

<options>:
A He noticed that there was something odd about him right away.
B He met someone like Parks before.
C He wrote a story that predicted Parks' predicament.
D He doesn't believe him, but plays along to keep Parks calm.

<answer>:

C