Steinfeldt.
There was a sudden pause in all his pulses, and then he hurried into the house, and glanced up and down the long lines of bales upon bales of goods, and upon the strange array of faces behind them.
One of the strangers advanced to meet him.
“What would you look at, sir?”
“Is—has Mr. Friedrich Rosenthal retired from business?” faltered Justin.
“Mr. Friedrich Rosenthal? I am not able to say, sir.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Nearly a year, sir,” replied the young man, looking surprised at the question.
“Is the—is Mr. Steinfeldt in?”
“Yes, sir; in the countingroom, back.”