Jim swings up into his saddle, checks his pistol in its holster, and rests his rifle where he can use it quickly if necessary. A chase always gets his blood up, and he can feel the excitement building the way it always does. Sternly, he tamps it down, reminding himself Steady Jimmy, steady.

He urges his horse into a trot next to the Captain, eyes on the dust cloud--but glancing around every so often for unpleasant surprises or places to hide if whatever they're following turns or stops.