Me, I spend.

My hand wide open always.

Money slip fast." "There's plenty of us marked that way," Weary made good-natured comment, turning so that his back might feel the heat of the fire.
"Shunka Chistala!" murmured Annie-Many-Ponies in her soft contralto to the little black dog, and moved away to the mountain wagon, with the dog following close to her moccasined heels.
Ramone looked after her with frank surprise at the strange words.

"Not Spanish, then ?" he ventured.
"Indian," the Native Son explained briefly, and added, perhaps for reasons of his own, "Sioux squaw." Ramone very wisely let his curiosity rest there.

He had a good excuse, for Luck, having finished work for the time being, came tramping over to the fire.