One of the employees of the hotel went up to him.
"What do you want?" he demanded, rather roughly.
"Be you Mr. Baker?" asked the boy.
"No; I am not Mr. Baker."
"Where is Mr. Baker?"
"I don't know anything about Mr. Baker," answered the attendant impatiently.
"The boy told me I would find him here," said Daniel, for of course my reader recognizes him.
"Then the boy was playing a trick on you, most likely."
By this time Mr. Baker thought it advisable to make himself known.
"I am Mr. Benjamin Baker," he said, advancing. "Do you want to see me?"