(FORTUNE Magazine) – Readers of this column know that I give an e-mail address at the end of every one. As a reward, I receive each month between, say, 30 and 300 e-mails from people large and small, fat and thin, mostly smart, some with a sense of humor, several not, young and old, rich and...well, not that many poor people are readers of this magazine, I guess. There are few consistent themes. Consultants keep writing and telling me I ought to like them better, that's about it.

Except for one thing. A host of individuals from Nigeria want me to help them extricate the sum of exactly $28.6 million dollars from strongboxes in their nation and bring the money back to the U.S. for a fee of 60% of the principal. I get one such offer every day, and sometimes two or three. For a while I found it sort of funny, in a slightly scary way. Then I found it odd. Now I'm intrigued. I mean, who couldn't use a big chunk of nearly $30 million?

"Compliment of the season and Happy Easter in advance!" This from a fellow I'll call Morton Jocomo, which I hasten to add is not his name. I'm going to change all names here, by the way. I'd hate to read in the newspaper that some guy I mentioned in this space was found in a dumpster in Lagos.

"I don't know that you are such a wonderful creature," Mr. Jocomo continued, going on to invite me to Africa to pick up several strongboxes full of gold and cash. The lucre in question seems to have come from one Abdul Barando Elisha, "a very rich man and a family member of late president of Nigeria, but murdered in Northern part of Nigeria during a clash between Christians and Muslims religion consigning the sharia law of the northern States of Nigeria, what a pity." The money in these e-mails, incidentally, is often covered in blood or is the product of embezzlement, corruption, or outright theft.

Mr. Jocomo then launched into a somewhat complex set of duties I must perform as part of the deal, signing documents, traveling to "Abidjan in the Cote D'Ivoire," and then returning to the U.S. with my "truck boxes ($) and demurrage."

"This is an opportunity for us to be millionaires with our teamup," he concluded. "Since the owner is dead and nobody know about the consignment accept you and me, think about it personally."

I did think about it personally. I have always wanted a boat and a small island in the Caribbean to moor it. So after some consideration, I e-mailed Mr. Jocomo to ask for certain details. "MY DEAR BROTHER," came the reply the very next day. "THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR E-MAIL MESSAGE WHICH WAS WELL NOTED. HOW ARE YOU AND YOUR FAMILY? I DO HOPE THAT EVERYBODY ARE PHYSICALLY FIT. I APPRECIATE YOUR INTEREST TO KNOW THE MODELITIES TO FOLLOW UP THIS TRANSACTION SUCCESSFULLY."

I was then given a Nigerian phone number to call and instructed to say that I was the foreign partner of Elrama Abdul Sarzenko El-Rasha, who deposited three trunk boxes with a certain code number (which he gave) in a specified storage facility. I was then to make arrangements for a trip to the Ivory Coast to pick up the gold for transfer to the U.S. In the meantime, I was to "SEND YOUR COMPLETE BIO-DATA AND PERSONNAL INFORMATIONS SO THAT I WILL USE IT TO REPLACE ALL THE INFORMATIONS ON ELRAMA ELRASHA AS HIS NEXT OF KIN." The e-mail ended with a plea for me to maintain "THE CONFIDENTIALITY OF THIS BUSINESS BEFORE AND AFTER THE TRANSFER OF THESE CONSIGNMENTS," and concluded warmly, "PLEASE ENDEAVOUR TO GIVE ME A CALL AFTER YOUR CONFIRMATION."

There were certain aspects of this whole thing that kind of made me nervous. But some things recommended themselves to me. There was the money, of course, which would have come to nearly $15 million dollars. On the other hand, there was all that travel, and the fact that I was purporting to be the next of kin of someone who was murdered in Nigeria over some religious question. Might there be danger?

Deep in these considerations, yet somewhat flattered by the international attention, I was very surprised to receive the following letter just a few days later. "REQUEST FOR URGENT CONFIDENTIAL TRANSFER OF US$28.6M AMERICAN DOLLARS INTO YOUR ACCOUNT." Hmm, I thought. Do these people think in increments of 28.6? And what's with all the uppercase letters?

"AFTER DUE DELIBERATION WITH MY COLLEAGUES, I DECIDED TO FORWARD TO YOU THIS BUSINESS PROPOSAL. WE WANT A RELIABLE PERSON WHO COULD ASSIST US TO TRANSFER THE SUM OF TWENTY-EIGHT MILLION, SIX HUNDRED THOUSAND US DOLLARS (US$28.6 MILLION) INTO HIS/HER ACCOUNT." This individual then went on to identify himself as a "TOP OFFICIAL EXECUTIVE SECRETARY/CHAIRMAN, TENDER BOARD COMMITTEE" of a huge nigerian corporation, and went on to assure me that "THIS TRANSACTION IS VERY MUCH FREE FROM ALL SORTS OF RISK HENCE THE BUSINESS WAS CAREFULLY PLANNED BEFORE IT WAS EXECUTED."

This reassured me. Still, I was a little dubious about the particulars. Once again I was instructed to supply my banker's name and address, my account number and the bank's telephone, fax, and telex numbers, and my private telephone and fax number. "LET HONESTY AND TRUST BE OUR WATCH-WORD THROUGHOUT THIS TRANSACTION," the letter, signed by one Willard Q. Jeffries, concluded.

I was now completely confused. Why was the offer from Willard Q. Jeffries so similar to that from Morton Jocomo? The first offer was generous. The second was equally so, down to the penny. Which deal should I go with? Then an idea struck me: If I was going to schlep all the way to the Ivory Coast, why not try to do both at once? Wow, I thought. This was starting to look like a very profitable trip.

That was last month. Today the letters keep on coming. At this writing I figure my 60% of the 18 stashes of $28.6 million comes to more than $150 million. It would take me a couple of years to earn that kind of money. But I'm not buying any tickets yet. There's something a little squirrelly about the whole thing, don't you think?

Which gets to my reason for writing this column. I'd like to hear from anybody who has actually done the whole thing, you know. Given your personal information? Gone to Abidjan? Taken the strongboxes home and all. Did it work out okay? Did you get your money? What kind of restaurants do they have over there? Did you need a gun? Thanks, guys. With your help, I figure I'll eventually be able to make up my mind about what to do.

Oh--and until then, will you dudes stop writing me these stupid e-mails? I wasn't born yesterday, you know.

By day, STANLEY BING is a real executive at a real FORTUNE 500 company he'd rather not name. He can be reached at stanleybing@aol.com.