The Manning times. [volume] (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, 1905-06-28
OF Tom Cuibertson, Who Busted
Monte Carlo Bank And
COMMITTED SUICIDE.
He Won One Hundred and Fifty Thousand
Francs aud the Next Morning ne
Was Found Dead CIasping a
Woman's Red Morocco
Pocket Book.

SCEhSt DOtNs
MONTE CARLO, June 2S.-Tom Cul-
bertson, from Texas, murderer ana
suicide: MARIETTA Torini Culbertson,
of New York and Texas, strangied
and robbed; the bank OF Monte Carlo
"burst" and the prince Of these realms
and the French republic richer by
100000 francs because the bank-burSt
or burned up his winnings-Sucn are
q single nights happenings IN gay
Monte Carlo.
AS your CORES pondent stops at the
Hotel de Paris, opposite the Casino,
where the tragedies were, IN parO, en-
acted, he is in a position to supple
ment the scant cable reports.
At4 O'Clock yesterday morning most
OF the second story lodgerS OF the
'sParisn were awakened by a pistol
shot. My room mate said at once;
Sits colt, I smell copy, and hasti
ly donning our trousers we ran out IN
the hall. The lights had already been
turned on full blast. Watchnen,
night clerks, scrub women, porters,
etc., came scurrying up the stairs. a
hundred questions In cczen tongues.
Every door on the corridor was succes-
sively tried. the occupants responding,
save that Of No. l3.
BURST in the door," cried several
excited guests. Not necessary, 1t was
unlocked. The rcon was pitch dark,
but the fumes CT powder and burned
paper meeting US we entered, lncl'
Gated that we were on the right track.
7 turned on the electric light. On the
lounge, fully dressed, was mans
body.
By c. the American, who burst
the bank I heard the night clerk
whisper.
Indeed, Tom Cuioertson, Of Texas,
the man who promised me "a big
story" only few hours before. Here
was the story: a hole large enough to
admit ones thumb in his right tem-
ple. From the wound blood was COZ
ing lazily, but minute ago it must
have gushed forth like a fountain.
There was a big pool on the carpet ano
IN the midst a giant colt revolver, ly-
ing below the now lifeless right hand.
The left, raised to the heart, clutch.
ed red something, a woman's pom
padaur, velvet and gold, 1t proved tc
be. Strange, the silken carrying cords
were cut.
Meanwhile a police sergeant and
three Carabinieri had marched IN.
They took charge Of the body, the
room and the semi dressed mob filling
it. The sergeant held a whispered
conversation with the manager and
night clerk. Then he demanded aloud:
"Does anyone recognize this dead per
SOM"
Halt a dozen men and women re-
sponded and your correspondent de-
posted what he knew about Tom Cul-
bertson's story in Monte Carlo. Fol
lowed the preliminary Investigation.
AS to the body: Life had been extin
guished some fifteen or twenty minu,
tes. Contents OF the pockets: A box
Of cartridges, some American silver
coin and q blood stained handkerchief.
The officer dispatched his men to
guard the doors. He also sent for as
sistance. Until further notice, !
will be obliged to regard you as my
prisoners" he said politely but firmly.
''Please take notice that not SOUL is
permitted to leave here" The oroer
was not surprising. At eleven p. N.
Tom Culbertson had $50, 900 francs OF
the bank money. Five hours latter
be was dead, maybe murdered, and
not a. hundred-f1anc bill left. The
guest prisoners were requested to with
draw to one part OF the very large
apartment, while the sergeant ans
hotel officials continued the search for
the missing fortune. Suddenly they
came upon a letter stuck behind the
rate card at the door, addressed to the
hotel keeper. 1.-The American report
er living on the same floor, will trans
late this Tor you," said a note in the
corner OF the envelope.
''To the Hotel Keeper and to Whom
it May Concern: am Tom Culoert-
son, of Texas, was well known cot
ton planter up to ten years ago. HaV-
Ing no relatives, the authorities can
do with my carcass as they please;
better sell it to the saw.bonss to pay
expenses. AS the story Of my life con
veys valuable lessons to old and young,
the American newspaper chap whom
I met in the cafe yesterday, may have
it for what it is worth.
Ten years ago when on business
trip to New York, I met my destiny
in Marietta Torini, daughter OF an
italian violinist. Her father used to
play in the Bowery cafes and TeStau-
rants, Marietta accompanying him on
the guitar. I fell In love with the
girl at sight. She became my wife,
and after settling comfortable in
come on the old man, we moved out
to our lonely ranch. am a man Of
40, she having just budded into NO
manhood. tried my best to make
hsr forget the difference in our years.
Her faintest, inarticulate wishes were
commands to me. 1 bought her every
thing she could think OF, but in the
end had to recognize the fact that |
was too OLD, too serious. minded for my
girl-wife. Frequently I found Mari
eta in tears. She said she was very
honesick, but wouldn't let her 90.
She was my first love, and the very
thought OF a separation was madden
ing to ne. Then an angel came to US,
a daughter, beautiful as the mother.
But Marietta hated the child. she
often mist1eated her despite my pro.
test. uporaided, I threatened her,
Il she dared raise a finger against my
child.
This was the signal for much Co
mestic unhappiness. One fine morn