Excerpt from The Confidence Game by Maria Konnikova, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

In the early years of the twentieth century, newspapers abounded with ads for almost all manner of things—medicines, miracle workers, business deals, lucrative investment opportunities, land and gold investments, riches galore. One day, however, a new sort of ad appeared in the pages of several dailies: an appeal from a certain Prince Bil Morrison. The prince was of noble birth and hailed from the far reaches of Nigeria. All he wanted was some American pen pals. So moving was the wording of the ad that the papers had published his mailing address free of charge. Should not the poor prince find some good old American correspondents?

He did find them, and aplenty. After a few letters were sent back and forth to his new friends, Prince Morrison made a simple request: would his American acquaintances send him a mere four dollars, and an old pair of pants they no longer needed? In exchange for such a small thing, he would send them vast quantities of ivory, diamonds, and emeralds. To him, they were but worthless baubles. Friendship, however, was priceless. The money and pants poured in. But where were the promised jewels?

Complaints flooded the post office. Where was the wealth Prince Bil Morrison had promised to send? Suspecting fraud, the authorities ferreted out the wealthy Nigerian. As they soon discovered, his wealth had been a creation of his fertile mind, as was his nobility. He was American. He was anything but wealthy. And he was fourteen years old.

Though Bil Morrison's age stopped further legal action in its tracks, the undeniable success of his letters had proven the worth of the successfully thrown rope. Americans had just been taken in with the first Nigerian mail order con—the old-fashioned predecessor of the e-mail phishing scam that is probably sitting in your spam folder this very minute. (A quick check of mine reveals a note from Elena. "Hello!!!" it begins in great excitement. "My name is Elena. I looked yours profil and have become interested in you." She's from Russia, too, she tells me. Cheboksary. "Write to me at once on mine e-mail," the lovely young lady concludes.)

The Nigerian fraud is a classic foot-in-the-door approach. Prince Bil made his way up to his requests for money. First it was just a pen pal— something so small and touching even money-conscious newspapers ran his ad for free. Then it was a few letters. Only then was it cash. And pants. The pants, I am at a loss to explain.

From The Confidence Game: Why We Fall for It . . . Every Time by Maria Konnikova, published by Viking, an imprint of Penguin Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC. Copyright © 2016 by Maria Konnikova.