That there's the northwest corner--ap-prox'm'tley--close as I could come by sightin'.
Your fences are straight with yer land, and I happen to sabe all yer corners.

I've got a right here.

I believe this ground is worth more for the gold that's in it than for the turnips you can make grow on top--and that there makes mineral land of it, and as such, open to entry.

That's accordin' to law.

I ain't goin' to build no trouble--but I sure do aim to defend my prope'ty rights if I have to.