Let me introduce them to the reader.

The taller of the two is a fine, sturdy, square-shouldered youth of fifteen or thereabouts, whose name in a certain section of Swishford is a household word.

He is Bowler, the cock of the Fourth, who in the football match against Raveling a fortnight ago picked up the ball at half-back and ran clean through the enemy's ranks and got a touch-down, which Blunt himself acknowledged was as pretty a piece of running as he had seen in his time.

Ever since then Bowler has been the idol of the lower school.
His companion is a more delicate-looking boy, of about the same age, with a cheery face, and by no means unpleasant to look at.

He is Gayford, as great a favourite in his way as Bowler, a boy whom nobody dislikes, and whom not a few, especially Bowler, like very much.
These are the two who walked that afternoon towards Raveling.
"Are you sure the fellow in the book doesn't make it all up ?" said Bowler dubiously.
"Not a bit of it," replied his companion.