Hawkeye, Trapper, and I were sitting in the mess tent.
Hawkeye had his head on my shoulder. "I hope this works," he said. "I should still be in bed."
"I'm sure it will," Trapper assured him. "And once it does, we will take care of Hawkeye better than Frank could if he tried."
Just as we planned, an intercom announcement was made. "Major Frank Burns, please report to the mess tent immediately."
A few moments later, Frank burst in. "This better be important! I am very busy."
"Visiting Margaret?" Trapper teased.
"Speaking of Margaret, I bet she would love these photos," I remarked as I grabbed the box of letters and pictures I had… borrowed from under Frank's bed.
His eyes widened. "Is that-? What are you doing with that? You must have gone into my tent-!" He stopped and turned to Trapper. "No! It was you! You went through my things, you no-good ruffians!"
"Yeah, I'm sure she would absolutely adore these wedding pictures," I said slowly. "And let's not forget the letters."
I took an envelope and read the letter inside:
"My dear Frank, how are you doing? The children and I miss you so much. Please write back soon. With lots of love, Louise."
"And that's one the shorter ones," Trapper pointed out.
"But, we might just let you have the box," I said slowly while putting the letter back in the envelope.
"Please, you can't!" he pleaded. "I order you to give me the box!"
"Let Trapper and Belle take care of me," Hawkeye said.
"Why? I'm doing a fine job. It's Winifred's fault you're sick!"
"Don't blame-" Hawkeye started but his voice cracked.
"Don't blame me, Frank," I said quietly. I was a little surprised that I was so confident. "We know what you did with the disinfectant and the water. And I know you stole the antibiotics."
Hawkeye was leaning against me again. "Just back off and we'll give you your pictures," he said wearily.
Frank stood for a moment, shocked. Then he moved faster than I'd ever seen him move before. He grabbed Hawkeye by the front of his shirt. "Well, you have the box but I have Pierce! Wanna trade?"
I gasped. "Let him go! You're only picking on him because he's sick and weak!"
Trapper opened the door to the mess tent and called out, "Margaret, Margaret! Come see what I've got to show you."
Frank looked angrily at me to Hawkeye to Trapper. "Fine," he said, letting go of Hawkeye. "Do what you want with Pierce because I'm not having anything to do with him."
Hawkeye sank back against me. "Belle? Can I go back to bed now?"
Just then, Margaret came in. "What's going on? What do you want me to see?"
Trapper glanced at Frank. "It's gone now."
Margaret looked quizzically at Frank.
He smiled nervously and shrugged. "It's gone now."