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

<passage>:
part many times, squaring his thin shoulders, looking the union boss straight in the eye and saying, "Now, see here, Torkleson—" But he knew, when the showdown came, that he wouldn't say any such thing. And hand he lifted the visiphone receiver. "Get me Walter Towne," he said. "I'm not an unreasonable man," Torkleson was saying anticipated dividend reports. Walter shook his head wearily. but tolerable. Torkleson was a different matter. The shop steward was a goad, annoying, perhaps even infuriating, Maybe his secretary's two neurones would fail to synapse this morning, and she'd lose them altogether. And, as long as he Torkleson sat down, his heavy cheeks quivering. "Gentlemen, be reasonable! I can guarantee you your jobs, even give a member of the board of directors, with Torkleson as chairman of the board. The stockholders numbered over 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 It was a masterful display of rabble-rousing. Torkleson Maybe Torkleson was gaining confidence in him. Maybe— desire in mind, my friends, to starve you all, and to destroy your company and your jobs. To every appeal they heartlessly refused to divulge the key to the lock-in. And now this man—the boss wants to see you. And you'd better have the right answers, too. The boss seems to have a lot of questions." Walter rose slowly from his seat. This was it, then. Torkleson had already seen the reports. He started for the door, his knees shaking. Walter could almost remember those days with Robling, grabbed the microphone. "You want the code word to start the machines again? I'll give it to you before I sit down!" The men stared at him, shuffling, a murmur rising. Torkleson Amalgamated Locals Daniel P. Torkleson, Secretary The secretary flipped down the desk switch and eyed Walter with pity. "Mr. Torkleson will see you." Walter pushed through the door into the long, handsome office. For an instant he felt a pang of nostalgia—the floor-to-ceiling Torkleson, and then out to the crowd. "You men here are an "Well? Don't just stand there. Shut the door and come over here." The man behind the desk hoisted his three hundred well-dressed pounds and glared at Walter from under flagrant eyebrows. Torkleson's whole body quivered as he slammed a sheaf of papers down on the desk. "Just what do you think you're doing with this company, Towne?" Walter swallowed. "I'm production manager of the corporation." "And just what does the production manager do Walter reddened. "He organizes the work of the plant, establishes production lines, works with Promotion and Sales, word to unlock the machines? All right, I'll give it to you." He swung around to point a long finger at the fat man 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. "Pity about Dan Torkleson. Gruesome affair." " Torkleson threw Walter nodded as he struggled down with a moose head. the heap of papers into Walter's arms, and paced up and down behind the desk. " "Yes, a pity, but you know the boys when they get upset." Walter spread his hands. "I do my best. I've been doing it Then how do you explain these reports? "Still, I didn't think they'd elect you secretary of the union. It just doesn't figure." Walter Towne chuckled. "Doesn't it? I don't know. Everything's Torkleson's face darkened. He leaned forward slowly. "So 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 "Details!" Torkleson snorted. "I don't care they'll vote you into office again each year." Torkleson's eyes glittered. His voice was very soft. "I've always liked you, Walter. So I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you." He paused, then continued. "But here on my desk is a "And you think you do a pretty good job of it, eh? Even of Sales, the whole managerial staff. It was wrong, all the way down the line. Walter had fought it tooth and nail since the day Torkleson had installed the moose heads in Walter's old office, and moved him down asked for a raise last year!" Torkleson's voice was dangerous. for thirty years. I should know what I'm doing." to be on your toes." "I still don't see how we could work it," Hendricks objected. His heavy face was wrinkled with worry. "Torkleson is no 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, "Not quite." Walter was grinning. "That's why I spoke of until the feedback is broken with the key. And the key is our secret. It'll tie the Robling office into granny knots, and scabs won't be able to get any more data out of the machines we've got them strapped." "For what?" asked the lawyer. Walter turned on him sharply. "For new contracts. Contracts to let us manage the company the way it should be managed. If they won't do it, they won't get another Titanium really take a nosedive." "That means you'll have to beat Torkleson," said Bates. "He'll never go along." "Then he'll be left behind." Hendricks stood up, brushing off his dungarees. "I'm with you, Walter. I've taken all of Torkleson that I want to. And I'm sick of the junk we've been trying to sell people." The others nodded. Walter rubbed his hands together. "All 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 At first—until that fateful night when Daniel P. Torkleson of TWA and Jake Squill of Amalgamated Buttonhole Makers spent a long evening with beer and cigars in a hotel room, and floated the loan that threw steel to the unions. Oil had followed Until Shop Steward Bailey suddenly found himself in charge Torkleson was waiting to see the shop steward when he came in next morning. The union boss's office was crowded with TV cameras, newsmen, and puzzled workmen. The floor was littered with piles of ominous-looking paper. Torkleson into Torkleson's ear. He spotted Bailey and waved him through The little lawyer paced his office nervously. "I don't like it. 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?" "Ten o'clock." Bates looked up. "And don't try to skip. You be there, because I don't know what to tell them." 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

<question>:
What is the relationship between Walter and Torkleson?

<options>:
A Walter is Torkleson’s boss at the factory.
B Walter and Torkleson are co-workers.
C Torkleson is Walter’s boss at the factory.
D Torkelson is Walter’s secretary.

<answer>:

C