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

<passage>:
By A. L. HALEY Casey Ritter, the guy who never turned down a dare, breathed a prayer to the gods of idiots and spacemen, and headed in toward the great red spot of terrible Jupiter. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from dead-end of creation, and why the Old Man ever thought them up I'll and sewed up tight. Sure, the crystals are deadly, but I was smuggling them legitimately, in a manner of speaking, for this doctor to experiment with. He wasn't going to sell them for dope. But—and this was the 'but' that was likely to deprive the System of my activities—even experimenting with also, I had promised not to rat on him before taking the job. Well, Casey Ritter may be a lot of things we won't mention, but he fall and the head man intone the sentence that would take me out of The senior judge rapped sharply with his gavel. He frowned me down and then nodded at the judge on his right. This bird, a little old hank of dried-up straw, joined his fingertips carefully, cleared his scrawny throat, and told me what for. "You've no doubt heard tales of the strange population of Jupiter," he said. "Every spaceman has, I am sure. Insect-like creatures who manifestly migrated there from some other system and who inhabit the Red Spot of the planet, floating in some kind of artificial I snorted. "Aw, hell, judge, that's just one of those screwy fairy The senior judge rapped ferociously, and I skidded to a halt. Our little story teller patiently cleared his skinny throat again. substantial monetary reward. Your talents, Mr. Ritter, seem, shall we say, eminently suited to the task." inhabitants were charming, just charming if you like scorpions. Well, a cross between a scorpion and a grasshopper, to be accurate. Floating He shrugged, trying for nonchalance. "About the size of a man, I collapsed onto my chair. A crafty-eyed buzzard across the table leaned toward me. "So this is the great Casey Ritter, daredevil of the Solar System!" he sneered. "Never loses a bet, never turns down a dare!" I shuddered. "You're telling that one! And besides, a man's got to draw it. Nuts! After all, in the pen a man can eat and breathe, and a guard now to think of it. The way that bunch of stuffed shirts in the S.S.C. made a gold-barred chimpanzee out of me has broken my spirit and turned me into an honest trader. Me, Casey Ritter, slickest slicker in safe and secure in the grip of the good old Iron College, I relaxed. and after awhile I braced him. when we met, and then I asked him what's his rap this trip. His eyes watered at the memory, yearning like a hound-dog's over a super-sacred, super-secret temple of the cavern-dwelling tribe of Killicuts on Mars—the real aborigines. Bleachies, we call them, sort of contemptuously nothing but a heap of cleaned bones by now. Either he was the world's champion liar or its bravest son, and either way I took my hat off to him. me. I chewed my fingernails down to the quick by the time he got out a week later. he opened up on the trade he'd booked for the string. He said, "When I chisel me way outa this squirrel cage, I'm gonna hit fer good old Jupe He looked at me as if I hadn't yet got out from under the rock where he was sure I'd been born. "Don't you know nothin', butterhead?" remember?" He winked broadly. "It come from Mars in the first place, "You mean those scorpions have really got brains?" nails, I bit myself. So I faced it. Casey Ritter lost his nerve, and that I could pry more information out of Pard Hoskins. letter to the S.S.C. that was good training, so I sneered right back at him, explained the those scorpions, and how he'd made Akroida mad. an audience with the old rip." He shook his head slowly. "The kid that took me in was colorblind, so I didn't have no warning at all. I found out that them scorpions can't stand yeller. It just plain Then he winked at me. "But then I got off in a corner and cooked up tiny bottle like that boy Aladdin clutching his little old lamp. to remind me that this was public service, strictly. "These—" he had proclaimed with a disdainful flourish, like a placer them. And be assured that if you're man enough to effect the trade—" He paused, his long nose twitching cynically—"IF you succeed, your reward will be triple what you could get for them in any market. Added to which, IF you succeed, you will be a free man." don't you get that brain busy and set our rendezvous?" anti-grav field, I concluded. The air was getting different, too, now that I was further in. I'm no chemist, and I couldn't have gotten out I braced up and tapped out the greeting Pard had taught me. My expression. I tapped back very politely that he must be mistaking me for someone else. "I've never been here before, and so I've never met the charming then he examined me with it just like an old-time earl with one of those things they called monocles. Pard hadn't warned me about those My actions didn't bother him a bit. "Jewels, did you say?" he tapped Taking advantage of his condition, I boldly tapped out, "How's about taking me on a guided tour through this red spinach patch to Akroida, old pal?" Or words to that effect. He lolled his hideous cranium practically on my shoulder. "Anything! Just anything you desire, my dearest friend." I tried to back off from him a bit, but the ship stopped me. "I'm Casey "Attaboy," he ticked coyly. you that?" He simpered. "My dear friend, Pard Hoskins." I breathed again. How simple could I get? He'd already mistaken me for Right there I forgave him for pulling that eye on me. He was the guide "Lead off, old pal," I sang out, and then had to tap it. "I'll follow alive but loved and cherished, thanks to Pard's inventiveness and to a kindly fate which had sent Pard's old pal my way. A great man, Pard Hoskins. How had he made friends with the brute in the first place? airlock. III That palace was like nothing on earth. Naturally, you'll say, it's right, in fact—and still they had furniture sitting around in the air as solid as if on a floor. Which was fine for flying hopper-scorps, but what about Casey Ritter, who hadn't cultivated even a feather? endured, and then without warning tossed me onto his back above the That conversation was telegraphed to me blow by blow by the actions of those hopper-scorps. I didn't need their particular brand of Morse Code name?" she demanded. And when he told her, with a bad stutter in direction. "Casey Ritter? Never heard of him. Where's he from?" Well, after all, she wasn't blind. He had to confess. "I—uh—the stones were so amazing, Royal Akroida, that I didn't pay much attention to the—uh—trader. He does seem to resemble an—ah—earthman." He ducked his head and fearfully waited. higher. Her mean Roman nose twitched. "An earthman? Like Pard Hoskins?" Attaboy shrank smaller and smaller. He could only nod dumbly.

<question>:
Who is the Old Man Casey refers to in the first paragraph?

<options>:
A The S.S. Customs Court Judge
B God
C Pard Hoskins
D The Experimentalist Doctor

<answer>:

B