Two weeks passed by and Tony, who had been up the Valley on a business trip, thought he would drop in at the Portland Ice Company before reporting to his house.
Entering the machine room with a jaunty, nonchalant air, he began singing in a high pitched voice, “How did you like my oil? How did you like my oil?” this to the tune of “Where did you get that hat?”
The ice plant was in a complete state of chaos, pipes being torn out and some 25 men were engaged in still further tearing out the piping. The foreman was up on a high ladder assisting in the demolishing when he espied Tony.
“There he is, there he is,” he yelled and he slid down the ladder, approaching the drummer with a formidable looking monkey wrench. His language was strong, full of epithets and he swung the monkey wrench menacingly.
Tony picked up a huge rock to defend himself, retreating backwards to the door, where he beat his way to the store to ascertain the cause of all this turbulent demonstration.
“Oh, that’s so, you have been away and did not hear about it,” said the undisturbed Plummer. “You see, one of the boys made a mistake and sent them the wrong oil, in fact, it was some oil which contained a good deal of lard oil, and when they turned in the cold water into the pipes it cooled off the lard and put them out of business.”
The ice company lost that summer’s output and litigation ensued, which helped to popularize Dave Dunne’s wares and Tony in disgust jumped his job.
It was not long after this that Neppach was engaged by Nicolai Bros. as manager of their planing mill and he was given full charge of the whole business.
Nicolai Bros. owned some land down around Slabtown, a piece of which they leased to a Swede, who ran a saloon on the premises.
The Swede’s lease for three years was about to expire and as he was doing a good business he became desirous to lease it for five years longer. When he applied to the firm, he was referred to Mr. Neppach as the proper person to negotiate with.