That very night, as Hockley was walking along the street, he passed a ship’s chandlery and in the window saw a sign, “Pitch for Sale.” Struck by a sudden idea after he had gone by, he retraced his steps and entered the shop, and asked the price of the pitch. It was cheap enough and he soon had about a pint in his possession, done up securely in a tin can and wrapped in a heavy paper. He secreted the bundle under his coat. The idea that had entered his mind was not wholly original with him. In one of the cheap novels he had read, “Pete Prankley, the Sassiest Boy in Sawtown,” Pete, the hero had had no end of fun by putting pitch into his father’s shoes at home and on the minister’s seat at church. It was a roaring good joke, according to Hockley’s notion, and to play something like that on the other boys would be just the thing. But how could he do it without being detected? It might prove easy enough to get the pitch into the shoes without being seen, but if all the crowd suffered but himself they would surely lay the blame on him, and he had no idea of making himself suffer with them. “Oh, I’ve got it!” he exclaimed at last, when he had cudgeled his brain for over an hour. “Just the thing! I’ll have my revenge on all of them, and one of them will catch it for keeps, too! It’s the best plan yet!” And he almost fell to hugging himself with delight. CHAPTER XVII A JOKE ON SHIPBOARD The steamer _Clarissa_, on which the boys now found themselves, was of the old-fashioned type, broad of beam and of rather light draught. But she was a very comfortable craft and after spending a day on board they were glad that Professor Strong had secured passage on her. There were among the passengers half a dozen Americans, bound for San Juan, so the trip was more lively than those before taken. In the crowd were several good piano players, and as the saloon of the _Clarissa_ boasted of a fairly good piano there was a good deal of music, especially during the evening. All the boys could sing, and none of them were “backward about coming forward,” as Darry expressed it. Even Hockley sang, for he had a fair voice and loved to show it off at the least opportunity. “One of the passengers tells me that Hayti is a great place for revolutions,” said Mark to the professor, on the morning of the second day out. “Hayti has been a hot-bed of revolutions for years,” answered Amos Strong, “and even to-day matters are far from settled there. At one time the island, which contains about twenty-eight thousand miles of territory and a population of 1,300,000 souls, was under a single government, but to-day it is divided into Hayti and Santo Domingo. The great majority of the inhabitants are black, and the whites have, in consequence, had a hard time of it. The French buccaneers used to make Hayti a stopping place and they had many a fierce fight with the blacks, and there was a continual struggle between the blacks that were slaves and their masters.”